If These Walls Could Talk
by nicola.anderson.7
Summary: Set after S3 finale. Daryl's on the warpath. He's not going to stop until the Governor is dead. But when the person he cares about most is almost lost to him, will he allow himself to show some real emotion? Caryl/Glaggie/ some Daryl/Carl moments
1. Chapter 1

He was watching her. He was always watching her, he was always making sure she was safe. It was just the way it was. No one could explain it, no one really understood it but they accepted it. The piercing blue eyes would always seek her out, they would always stay on her until they were met then flicker away, darting around the room. She would smile at him and get back to her chores, and he would take his position on the stairs and watch her some more, listening to the conversation going on around him but not paying attention. That's just the way it was.

On this particular day though, Daryl was stationed in the guard tower, his eyes scanning the forest and surrounding area. He was sure he'd spotted something glinting in the sunlight, like a gun barrel poking through the grass. He'd tore his eyes off Carol, who was playing with Judith in the courtyard, the moment he'd glimpsed the reflection out the side of his eye. His crossbow was armed and ready, his foot tapping impatiently. He needed to get down there and investigate but didn't dare leave his post, his instincts keeping him in place. He was sure if he left that's when the person would strike, if there even was a person out there. His eyes might have deceived him but the sense of dread that had washed over him and settled in the pit of his stomach

Footsteps clunked up the stairs of the tower and Glenn finally arrived at the top, his rifle casually swung over his shoulder and a mug of instant coffee in his hand. He held it out to Daryl.

"Thought you could use something, like a caffiene boost." Glenn smiled, unaware of the thoughts pulsing through the man before him. Daryl shot him a look, it wasn't his usual cold glare but something that registered the kindness in the simple act and appreciated it. His eyes darted back to the fence, grip tightening on his crossbow.

"Keep watch for a minute. I need to check somethin' out." Daryl ordered, his voice a deep growl.

"But Maggie's waiting for me...We don't get much time together now a days." Glenn moaned but shut up when he caught the glare off Daryl.

"I wasn't askin', I was tellin'" Daryl snarled, pushing past Glenn and taking the stairs two at a time. When he reached the courtyard he pointed at Carol, "Get inside now!"

Carol didn't need to be told twice and did as she was told quickly, scooping up Judith and disappearing. Carl was standing at the gate, unsure whether to open it and let Daryl into a field of walkers' or keep it closed. Fortunately Daryl made up his mind for him.

"Open the gates, god dammit!" Carl obeyed, he always did when Daryl was riled, better to just go with it. It was like a tidal wave of rage, if you didn't do what it wanted or got out the way in time, it would just sweep you away. Daryl raced into the yard, ignoring the gaggle of walkers that shuffled towards him. Ever since the Governor had knocked down the gates the yard had been crawling with walkers. Daryl was fit and in good health but he realized he'd made a mistake when he'd ran into a field full of things desperate for human flesh. He kept his speed up and was soon out the gates. The walkers still ambled after him but he'd have some time before they caught up with him. He pushed forward to the spot that he'd glimpsed the light.

He skidded to a halt, panting slightly, as a figure popped up, took one look at Daryl and sprinted towards him, the assault rifle forgotten in the grass. Daryl recognised the face but had trouble putting a name to it.

The figure crashed into him, arms wrapping around his waist and tackled him to the ground. Daryl had let his guard down and now look where it had got him. In the mud with a stranger straddling him. Still, he never was one to go down without a fight. The face clicked with a name just as the assailant's fist smashed down towards Daryl's face.

Caesar Martinez. The Governor's right hand man.

Daryl moved his head as the fist smashed into the mud. Martinez yelled in pain as the bones in his fingers cracked. Daryl bucked his hips, throwing the man off him and rolled over, his fingers searching for his crossbow. Finding nothing, Daryl scrambled to his feet and threw a punch at Martinez, who had just managed to stagger to his feet. It connected with his nose, giving a satisfying crack. As Martinez staggered backwards, Daryl gripped his shoulder and smashed his fist into his stomach. Martinez doubled over, groaning in pain. Daryl took advantage of the position and his knee crashed into Martinez's face, throwing the smaller man backwards and into the dirt. Daryl's eyes landed on his crossbow and he lunged for it. Martinez grabbed his leg and twisted the ankle. Daryl's knee buckled under the strain and he landed in the mud. He kicked his foot free, hitting Martinez in the jaw. He crawled forward, his fingers wrapping around the sling of his crossbow.

He pulled it towards him and scrambled to his feet, aiming the crossbow at Martinez, ready to fire. Martinez kicked upwards, hittingt he bow and wrenching it from Daryl's grasp. Daryl lunged forward, grabbed Martinez by his shirt and dragged him to his feet. He pinned him to the fence, holding him in the air, his forearm pressing down on Martinez's windpipe, choking him. He threw a few punches, hitting Martinez in the face and head before gritting his teeth and pressing down even harder on Martinez's throat, allowing no air through at all.

"Where is the Governor? I'll kill the fucker!" Daryl snarled, anger the strongest component in his voice. He wasn't going to give up on his search for the Governor until he'd avenged Merle. Merle may have been many things and Daryl may have not got on with him a lot but he wasn't going to let his death slip by unnoticed and meaning nothing.

"Not...if he...kills you...first!" Martinez choked out, gripping Daryl's arms and throwing himself off the fence and towards the river, dragging Daryl with him. They landed in the river with a huge splash. Daryl went under, all noises around him fading out before breaking the surface and gulping in air. The cold water was a shock to his skin but it wasn't unpleasant, just different. He looked around, searching for Martinez but it seemed he'd disappeared. Just then a shot rang out and the bullet splashed into the water inches away from Daryl's face. A knife followed but this time he wasn't so lucky. The blade slashed through his left eyebrow and cheek, missing his eye by millimetres. Pain shot through him as blood ran into his eye. He dived under and swam down, holding his breath. There was another huge splash and Daryl saw legs kicking to the otherside. Martinez had jumped in which could only really mean one thing.

Walkers had arrived.

Daryl pushed himself to the surface and saw Martinez disappearing into the woods, limping heavily with blood streaming down his face. Daryl felt satisfied with the damage he had caused to the man but was disappointed that Martinez had still managed to escape. Next time Daryl saw that man, he would make it the last time he ever saw him, that was a promise that Daryl intended to keep. He glanced at the bank closest to the fence. Walkers were congregating towards the sound of the gunshot, ambling out the yard and from the nearby forest. Daryl swam to the bank, making as little noise as possible which is hard when you're in a river and somehow managed to pull himself out the river, wiping blood from his face and away from his eye. He spotted his crossbow a couple of metres from where he lay in the grass and slowly shuffled forward.

A walker must have saw spotted the wet, bloody figure crawling through the grass because it snarled and lunged for him. Unfortunately for Daryl it landed on him and he only just managed to catch it by the throat before his own throat was chewed open. He struggled to hold it up with one arm while trying to free his knife from his belt, with blood trickling into his eye. The walker's snarls and moans of pleasure were attracting the others and hunger moans filled the air. Daryl finally freed his knife and stabbed it down in the back of the walker's skull. He pushed the corpse off himself and scrambled to his feet, scooping his crossbow up as he did so. He took a fighters stance, the crossbow still armed in one hand, knife in the other. He took in the walkers' ambling towards him and realized he'd bitten off more than he could chew. The odds of him winning this fight were little to none. Daryl glanced at the guard tower and hoped that Glenn was still there, keeping watch or at least trying to signal for help. When no one came Daryl knew he had no choice. He shot one walker in the eye and ran in the opposite direction, hoping the corpse would cause some sort of distraction.

Daryl never thought he'd run away from a fight, he never had before in his life so why did he start now? It wasn't like he would even care if he died but something held him back. He wasn't living for himself anymore, he was living for the group. They were his family and he was part of theirs. The lone wolf had joined a pack. Merle had often called him a lone wolf, except for the few times Merle was actually there. Daryl stopped for breath, panting heavily. The way back to the gate was blocked with walkers munching on the corpses that Daryl had left behind. He could go the long way around the prison but the front was overrun by walkers so that way was useless too. Daryl dragged his hand across his face, smearing blood over his face. He looked at the fence, trying to formulate a plan. He couldn't get around it, he couldn't go over it but maybe he could go over it.

He could climb the fence! He glanced at the barbs atop the chain link fence and frowned slightly. They were sharp but he had climbed worse. He tentatively grabbed the fence, pulling himself up by the links, his boots too big to fit in the links. His fingers hurt and he thought he was going to fall off but somehow he made it to the top. He paused when he got close up to the barbs. They were razor sharp and didn't make you want to climb over them.

"Stop being a pussy! I ain't no pussy!" He growled to himself, pysching himself up. He threw one leg over the barb, keeping it light as air and sat atop the barbs. They cut into his thighs and hands, drawing blood. He winced as they tore at his skin. He scrambled down the otherside of the fence and into the dog run. He sprinted until he got to the broken gate before racing up the yard, wiping blood out his eye as he ran. Carl got the gate open as he drew near and Daryl sailed right through before crashing into the concrete ground, his legs giving way to pain and pure exhaustion. He lay there for a moment before sitting up to find Carl watching him.

"What was out there?" Carl asked, a spark of curiosity in his lifeless eye. The innocence that had once belonged there was long gone and had now given way to pure hatred and anger. Carl was usually always simmering away now, rarely talking, just shooting daggers, especially at the Woodbury residents or Rick.

"Martinez. We need to prepare this place for an attack."

* * *

Herschel finished stitching Daryl's eyebrow and cheek. It was a deep cut but it would heal well. Daryl also had lots of little cuts on his legs and hands but he refused to let Herschel treat them. He claimed it was unnecessary. Rick was pacing back and forth, his eyes trained on Daryl, turning the story over in his head.

"Why was he here? That's what I don't get." Glenn finally said, breaking the silence. The group were in the common area, the orginal prison group. Tyreese and Sasha were with them.

"He was scoutin'. He was tryin' to get information on the mechanics of the place, like who's on guard at what time, who opens the gates, who runs things. He was collectin' stuff for the Governor, at least that's what I'd do if it were me." Daryl shrugged, leaning against the stairs. After Herschel had stitched his face, he'd gone to his usual perch on the stairs. Carol kept shooting him worried looks. No doubt he'd get a visit later.

"So what do we do?" Tyreese asked, "We got a lotta people to look after. That ain't gonna be easy if he knows how this place is ran."

"We need t'get ready for an attack. Plain and simple. We need to fix the gates, then we dig ditches along the fences so walkers fall into them. We set up more spikes and traps in the yard, grow some plants and stuff. A sustainable food source is a good idea. Possibly dig a trench from the river into the yard, that way we got plenty fresh water. If we get stuck in this hole, we'll have food and water. Then we train the men and younger ones. Then we gon smoke the sons a bitches." Daryl shrugged.

"This ain't Woodbury. We ain't creatin' an army! I agree with you on most of what you just said but we aren't creatin' an army. We'll train them to protect themselves, but I ain't trainin' them for an army." Rick yelled. He'd been stewing for a few minutes and when he heard Daryl's plan, lost his cool. Daryl was talking about a war, he was talking about sending people to kill others. Daryl glanced at Rick, unperturbed and stood up, flewing his arms. He stared Rick down who was glaring back at him, grey eyes fierce.

"This ain't an army."


	2. Chapter 2

Gripping the doorframe that led into his cell, Daryl groaned. He gripped the top of the doorframe and pulled himself up, crossing his ankles as he did so. He hadn't liked the way Rick had looked at him, like he was redneck trash. Rick had never looked at him that way before, he was one of the few who hadn't. Daryl knew he was wrong, suggesting that they should create an army, but the words had come out his mouth before his brain even knew about them. He hadn't thought, just spoke. He lowered himself slowly before pulling himself up again. The pattern continued for a couple of minutes.

When Daryl was younger and angry, he'd either take his anger out on people, or shove it down and do some pull-ups in the hope that they could release the tension. Today they failed him though and when he finally stopped, he was just as mad as before. But he wasn't mad at anyone in the prison. He was mad at himself. He dropped to the floor and dropped his crossbow on his bed. He threw himself down next to it, a yell of self-loathing escaping his lips. He imagined he had sounded just like the Governor the moment he suggested they create an army.

A shadow fell across him, blocking the light streaming through the doorway. He ignored it, knowing who it was. He couldn't be bothered with her right now, not while he was in this mood, not while he was most likely going to take his anger out on her. God knows she didn't deserve that. Daryl had only just forgiven himself for the first time he'd taken his anger out on her. But he would never forget how she stood there and waited for him to hit her, she took his words bravely. The shadow shifted and sat on the bed next to Daryl, not saying anything.

"Daryl? Are you ok?" Carol's voice echoed in his head but he ignored it.

"Go away Carol." He snarled, his hands bunching up into fists. Carol ignored him and laid a soft hand on his knee. Daryl sat up at the touch, hitting his head on the bunk above his. He winced and dropped back onto the pillows. Carol patted his knee comfortingly.

"I know you don't want to talk but I think you should. We haven't had a good...chat in a while. I feel like I've lost all of the Daryl I know." Carol murmured. Daryl sat up, slowly this time, and gave Carol an incredulous look. He crossed his legs and bunched the sheets up in his hands, his shoulders sagging as he played with the sheets. Carol watched him for a while, taking in his sagging shoulders and downcast face. Something had gone out in Daryl ever since Merle had died. The angry, redneck that Daryl had fought so hard to control was taking over him. He was reversing into the past, becoming the angry man that hand prowled the Atlanta camp, a belt of squirrels draped over his chest. The Daryl that Carol had first come to know and fix.

* * *

_The squirrel pelt came off easily enough and was tossed to the side with a flick of a wrist. Daryl was a hunter, he was a survivor. He observed things, he would pick up on tension within the group, note things about certain people. So it was no surprise to him when he heard the yelling from down at the creek. He glanced over at Merle, who was preparing for a run into the city. Merle smirked back him, hearing the yelling himself. _

_"Sounds like a lovers' tiff, baby brother." Merle smiled, slinging a Winchester bolt-action rifle over his shoulder and patting his brother on the shoulder as he walked past. Daryl stiffened under the touch. He never liked it when people touched him, even when it was just Merle. _

_"Kill some geeks for me!" Daryl called over his shoulder, his way of goodbye. He peeled the pelt off the next squirrel and threw it down into the pile. The yelling was still happening, the sound bouncing off the high cliffs of the quarry. Daryl threw down his squirrel belt impatiently. The shouting was doing his head in. He wiped his bloodied hands on his shirt and grabbed his crossbow, intending to go on a hunting trip but a woman's cry stopped him. It was a pain-filled cry that had Daryl tensing up. The sounds of his Dad inflicting damage on his Mom echoed through his head, the crack of a slap then the scream. The pain-filled scream. _

_Something in the cry had Daryl loading a bolt into his crossbow, running towards the shouting and screaming. He paused when he spotted the husband and wife, the slightly overweight man towering over the slight frame that lay in the sand, sobbing and begging for forgiveness. He had seen them around camp with their daughter but had never uttered a word to them. The man bore down on her, raising a fist and stamping a foot into her belly. The woman cried out again. The man gripped her by her short, grey hair and dragged her towards the water. He shoved her head into the creek and held for a moment while the woman thrashed about, powerless under her husband's grip. She gulped in air the moment she was free of the water. _

_Daryl surged forward, the instinct to protect the woman strong. He didn't know why he felt the need to protect her, maybe it was because she was a woman or maybe it was because he was also a victim of abuse, but the need was strong. He wrapped his strong arm around the man's neck and dragged him back, allowing the woman to come up for air. He slammed the man in the sand and pressed his foot to the man's throat, pressing down but not hard enough to kill. _

_"Do you feel like a man? When you push her around? Does it make you feel better?" Daryl barked, his crossbow aimed at the man's face. He recalled his name as Ed or something similar. Ed was going blue in the face, feebly trying to prise Daryl's foot off his throat. He had seen the taller man's power when he fought with his brother. Daryl spat in contempt, hitting Ed square in the face. He removed his foot and kicked him in the stomach. Ed crawled away, his face burning with embarrassment and his eyes watering with the sudden rush of air. _

_Daryl watched him before turning his attention to the woman who was sitting in the water, coughing and sobbing at the same time. She caught Daryl watching her and wiped her eyes, taking a slow breath. She composed herself and sat watching Daryl, a curious glint to her blue eyes. Finally, she got up the nerve to speak. _

_"Why?" Was all she uttered. Daryl's eyes widened, his brow furrowing and a scowl settling on his features. Did she like getting beat up or was she just retarded? Why did she need to ask such a question? Anyone would have done the same if they had witnessed it. _

_"I can't seem to stay away from a damsel in distress." Daryl spat into the sand before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a carton of cigarettes. He placed one in his mouth before holding out the packet to the woman, his eyebrow raised in a silent offering. The woman smiled before getting to her feet and taking one cautiously. Daryl fished his lighter out his other pocket and lit up before taking a long drag. The woman took in the man before her with his muscular body and clenched jaw. A muscle in his cheek was ticking away and he was bristling with an unspoken rage. His shirt was covered in blood and scraps of fur._

_"I'm Carol." She murmured shyly, taking a drag. _

_"I know." Daryl frowned and opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but then clamped it shut. _

_"You are?" Carol prompted, wanting to find out the name of her knight in shining armour. _

_"Daryl." He shrugged and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. He dropped his cigarette into the sand and stamped on it, crossing his arms over his chest. He eyed Carol warily, taking in her stooped figure and short hair, the bruises trailing up her arms and across her collarbone. _

_"Do you want me to wash your shirt?" She suddenly gestured towards his shirt. Daryl frowned, unsure of the attention he was receiving. He didn't like it. He had always washed his own clothes and now someone was offering to take the job off his hands. No thank you. His mother had preferred Scotch and cigarettes than keeping house and his father preferred whipping his kids and wife with a belt, using a polished buckle. _

_"No." _

_"Are you sure, it's filthy and it really is the least I can do." Carol was almost begging but her eyes still remained on his face, a steely determination staring at him. _

_"No. It's fine woman." He snapped impatiently. He'd said no, what was it with her pushing? Daryl scowled at her once more before turning on his heel and storming away. _

_This woman made him so nervous and it was an unwelcome feeling. He disappeared into the woods that evening and was not seen again for a couple of days_

* * *

"Carol?" Daryl's voice brought her back from the memory. She shook her head and faced Daryl, her eyes focusing on his face.

"Yes Daryl?" She replied quickly, wiping her eye that had misted up at the memory. She finally understood why Daryl had saved her, why he'd stopped Ed. It was because he knew what it felt like and she was sure it had surfaced his own memories of the abuse he'd suffered at the hands of his father.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" Daryl sounded so broken, so young and so little. He sounded like he needed a huge hug. Carol shifted her position and draped her arms around Daryl's shoulders.

To her surprise, Daryl didn't pull away. Sure he tensed up, but he didn't pull up. He hadn't completely regressed to the stage where no one could touch him. Carol was honoured that she was one of the few people who was allowed to touch him.

"I don't think you're a bad person. I think you're broken and have had a crap life but I don't believe for one minute that you're a bad person. And I'll bet my right hand that Rick doesn't think you're a bad guy either. No one does. You've earned your place here. You've saved us all countless times. Rick knows you don't really want to create an army, he knows you're still grieving over Merle. He knows." Carol murmured, soothing Daryl much like you'd soothe a child.

Daryl pulled away from Carol and looked at her. She was so kind. She hadn't deserved the life she'd had. It still mystified Daryl why she had been with Ed in the first place. She could have had so much better. She could have anyone she wanted in his eyes, but she'd chose Ed. The man who beat the shit out of her countless times. The man that beat her daughter. She had married a bastard.

"Carol, why did you…." Daryl blushed, "Why did you marry Ed?" Daryl looked at his hands, before glancing at Carol. She looked stunned at the question but quickly regained her composure.

"Because I thought he could give me the life I wanted." She said simply, shrugging, "I was wrong."

"You could have done so much better."

"I know. Trust me I know." Carol stood up quickly, her eyes tearing up. She hadn't thought Daryl had cared so much. She blinked quickly before turning and walking to the cell entrance.

"I better go. I have some laudry to do then I have Judith duty." She smiled quickly before disappearing into her own cell for a quiet minute to herself.

Daryl understood why she left so quickly. He had seen the tears in her eyes but they weren't sad tears. He didn't know what they were but they weren't sad tears that much he knew. He knew he had stirred up memories of her husband, maybe even some of her daughter, that Carol had buried deep down. He hadn't asked to hurt her, he had asked because he was genuinely curious. He felt a pang of guilt at making Carol cry but repressed it and stood up instead. He left his cell and stopped outside Carol's, hiding behind the wall. He knew she was in there, he could hear the quiet sobs.

He pushed past her cell without looking at her and disappeared into the common area. Herschel and Beth sat at a table, chatting away and keeping an eye on Judith who lay in her makeshift cot, quietly gurgling to herself. Glenn had Maggie in his arms, her head tilted back onto his shoulder, whispering quiet things in her ear, occasionally causing her to giggle. Most of the Woodbury residents were in their cells or outside in the courtyard. Rick was probably selecting a few to go fix the gates with him.

Judith's happy gurgles stopped and she started to wail, begging for attention. Daryl made his way over to her, stopping Beth with a kind look and a curt, "I've got this,"

He lifted the baby up, holding her under the arms and inspecting her. She was at the stage where she could support her own head and could roll over. She could stand if someone held her chubby hands. Daryl looked her over casually. He did it as a joke, looked her over before making a cutting comment or remark.

"You'll do." He smiled at the sour look on Judith's face, "Why the face? Someone's grumpy today, ain't cha lil' ass kicker." He held her properly, his arms in an awkward cradle, rocking back and forth slowly. He tickled her chin before making a silly face. Judith gurgled happily. Someone appeared at his elbow, making silly faces next to him. It was Carol.


	3. Chapter 3

"Look at the proud parents," Rick grinned, entering the common area and taking in the scene before him. Daryl and Carol did look very much the proud parents cooing over Judith, standing close to each other. Daryl glanced at Rick then down at Judith before holding her out to Beth suddenly. Beth took Judith, laughing at Daryl's reaction. Carol patted him on the arm, chuckling quietly and went over to the sink were she promptly shoved some dishes into the soapy water. Daryl looked at Rick, awaiting his order.

"Daryl we need your help fixing the front gates. I want to get to it right away but I'm not sure how we should go about it," Rick looked at his feet, shrugging his shoulders and looking slightly ashamed. Daryl raised his eyebrow and stretched his arms above his head.

"Create a distraction." Daryl nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I thought of that but how?" Rick looked exasperated.

"Get someone in the yard with them, I know someone who would be willin' to do that, lurin' them away and have people in the guard towers pickin' them off." Daryl arched an eyebrow and waited for Rick to reply. Rick glanced at him before pacing back and forth, turning it over in his head. What Daryl said made sense but who would be willing to run round a yard full of walkers. He stopped his pacing suddenly and stared back at the hunter, Daryl's words finally dawning on him. Daryl was offering to be bait but still he needeed to be sure.

"What? Do you even know what you're offering to do?" Rick was astonished, he knew Daryl was brave he just never figured he'd run round a field for them.

"I wasn't offerin', I was tellin'." Daryl snorted. Rick put a firm hand on Daryl's shoulder. He could feel Daryl tense up immediately and it was obvious he was fighting the urge to shrug out of contact. Daryl's eyes flickered to the hand on his shoulder before locking with Rick's. A silent message passed between them.

_I have nothing to lose. I don't have anyone._

Rick took his hand off Daryl's shoulder and glanced around the room. The group had picked up on the silent message and were watching curiously. Glenn left his place at Maggie's side and stepped up next to Rick.

"I'll help with the gate. Um maybe we should get Tyreese and Michonne in the guard towers with rifles." Glenn sounded nervous, wringing his hands together.

"We don't know how good they are with a gun. I'll do it, I'm good with a rifle." Maggie stood up and took Glenn's oustretched hand. Carol looked up from where she was playing with Judith, tickling the infant's chubby thighs, and looked to Daryl, her eyes full of admiration. The man was so brave, he did so much for the group, it made Carol's jobs seem like the bear minimum. She had always felt like she did little of the things that mattered to the group. Sure she cleaned dishes and helped look after Judith but it wasn't work that tested her. It was easy.

Daryl caught Carol's eye and knew what she was thinking. He knew what she was going to do and it alarmed him. She wasn't the best shot with a rifle and she hadn't had a lot of practice. If Carol was in one of the guard towers, shooting at walkers, Daryl's life might be in serious danger. And not because of the walkers.

"I'll help Maggie, I could use the practice." Carol's voice piped up, breaking the tense silence.

"You don't need to do that!" Daryl exclaimed, lunging forward and gripping Carol's arm, the alarm obvious in his eyes.

"Daryl I need to earn my place here. Everyone does so much and all I do is clean stuff and look after Judith. I need some time out in the field." Carol snatched her arm back.

"I think it'll be good for Carol to get some practice," Rick interjected and Glenn and Maggie nodded in agreement.

"So it's decided. I'll be in one of the guard towers. Maggie will be in the other and Daryl will be running around the yard while Rick and Glenn fix the gates. Carl and Sasha can rattle the fences and draw the walkers towards them." Carol concluded, fixing Daryl with an adamant stare. She was going to do this and nothing he could say would stop her. Daryl stepped back and cracked his fingers.

"Fine, but if she shoots me, I'll blame you." Daryl hissed as he walked past Rick and out into the courtyard. He said it loud enough so Rick and maybe Glenn could hear him.

* * *

Daryl placed back and forth, glaring at the walkers' through the fence. Carol and Maggie were in the guard towers, rifles at the ready. Tyreese, Carl and Sasha were at the fence, equipped with sharp melee weapons and pots to bang. Michonne and a young Woodburian boy called Nathan were on watch. Rick and Glenn stood close by, tools in their pockets and bats in their hands. Everyone else had been herded inside.

"You guys ready?" Rick looked to Glenn then Daryl. Glenn nodded and Daryl looked over his shoulder, his eyes fixing on Carl.

"Open the gate." He growled, feeling oddly light without his crossbow. He could run easier without it. Carl rushed forward, unlocked the gate and wrenched it to the side. The trio surged forward into the yard. Rick and Glenn raced straight through the field while Daryl peeled off and clapped his hands and rattling the fence, stealing the walkers attention from the men running through the yard and to him. It worked.

The walkers groaned and staggered towards him, arms outstretched and hungry growls leaving their deformed lips. Daryl encouraged them forward, clapping and yelling at them, keeping their attention from Rick and Glenn who had reached the outer gate and were getting to work. The walkers outside the fence raced towards them but they were easy to keep at bay. Inbetween fixing the fence and stabbing walkers, the men were making good progress.

Shots rang out and walkers fell to the ground as Daryl jogged around the yard, a trail of walkers following him. A bullet punched into the ground at his feet and he leapt into the air, a yelp of alarm leaving his alarm. Carol shot him a wicked grin from the guard tower before disappearing behind her rifle. Unfortunately the distraction had allowed a walker to sneak up on Daryl and mangled fingers gripped the back of his shirt. Daryl surged forward, his shirt ripped from his skin. His soiled shirt fell to the ground. Immediately Daryl felt self-conscious but shoved it down and turned to face the walker. It was a mangled female, blond hair matted and half of the jaw missing. Her head was attached to her body by a flap of skin, having be rotted and chewed away.

Daryl drew his knife and thrust the blade forward, the blade piercing the milky eyeball of the walker and imbedding inself in the brain. Daryl wrentched his blade free and glanced around . Rick and Glenn were working on the inner fence, Maggie and Carol were picking off walkers' and Carl his little group stabbed at stray walkers that walked their way. More importantly a cluster of walkers had singled out Daryl and were backing him into the fence, coming at him from all angles. Daryl turned to the fence and scrambled up, hanging just out of the walkers' reach. They shook the fence and reached for him, pressing themselves against in a hungry wave. Daryl's eyes narrowed in on a stray walker that was staggering towards Rick and Glenn who didn't notice it.

Daryl glanced at the walkers pressed against the fence, then the walker sneaking up on Glenn and Rick. He glanced at Maggie who's face was ashen and her jaw slack with alarm. But she couldn't do anything because she was hitting the major cluster of walkers. Daryl sighed to himself and pushed himself off the fence. A bullet grazed his ribcage and another grazed his air was forced out of him. He soared over the walkers' heads and landed a metre away from them in a roll. A spasm of pain shot through his leg and abdomen but he forced himself to his feet, gulping in air and limped forward, knife in his hand. He raced towards the walker making its way for Rick and Glenn. The pair finished the fence and stood back to admired their handywork. The walker grabbed Glenn by his shirt. Rick fiddled to free his knife from his belt and Glenn struggled to free himself from the walker.

The walker bared its teeth and closed in on Glenn's neck. Maggie's scream filled the air.

Arm wrenched the walker off Glenn and tackled it to the ground before the teeth had a chance to connect with flesh. Daryl sat astride the walker and stabbed the knife into the walker's skull, much like he had when he had killed Merle. A wave of déjà vu hit him and he squeezed his eyes shut, reminding himself it wasn't Merle. It was a stupid walker, it wasn't his brother. Daryl's eyes shot open and he leapt to his feet, ignoring the pain in his leg. He turned to find Rick watching him and Glenn panting heavily.

"Am I dead?" Glenn croaked, "Why am I seeing a half-naked Daryl?" Daryl crossed his arms across his chest, suddenly aware that he wasn't wearing a shirt because it had been ripped from him.

"It didn't get you." Daryl drawled before looking at the walkers still in the field. There was only a few left but Carol and Maggie made quick work of them. Rick peeled his sweaty shirt away from his skin and exhaled heavily. Glenn kept looking over his shoulder, his fingers searching for a wound that wasn't there. Maggie and Carol abandoned the guard towers, leaving Michonne and Nathan on watch. Carl, Tyreese and Sasha came into the field, looking around in awe. Carl's eyes were alight with a rare happiness. Daryl edged forward, keeping his back to Tyreese and Sasha. The didn't need to know about his scars. Rick already knew and Glenn probably wouldn't be surprise. He ducked down and scooped up his shirt.

The front was burst, the buttons ripped off but the back was still intact. He shrugged it on and folded his arms across his chest. Maggie raced down the yard towards Glenn and kissed him passionately. Daryl covered Carl's eyes jokingly.

"We gotta protect you from some things," He joked, a small smile tugging at his lips. Carl shrugged his hand off, a peal of laughter escaping his lips. Carl looked shocked at the sound that had escaped his own lips and covered his mouth with his hands. Rick raised an eyebrow at his estranged son, a smile taking over his face. Carl removed his hands and gave his Dad a timid smile. The darkness inside of Carl was finally beginning to fade.

Carol had dashed inside to get Herschel and Beth and now emerged with Judith writhing in her arms, Herschel hobbling beside her and Beth helping her Daddy down the steps. Carol had a huge smile on her face and was singing quietly to Judith. Daryl had never seen her this happy in the time they'd known each other. She had been happy that night in the CDC and she had been happy when they had first found the prison and had cleared the yard out. It was different this time, this time she was positively glowing.

Daryl winced as the pain in his leg and chest registered with him now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He glanced down at his chest and gently prodded at the wound. It was deep but not serious but it would probably require stitches. He rolled his pant leg up and saw a similar wound on his leg only it wasn't as deep. It would heal over on its own. He wiped the sweat from his brow, smearing blood over his face.

"Not my best idea." He mumbled to himself and wiped his hands on his pants. He flicked his hair out his eyes and went over to Carol. She smiled at him then frowned at his blood smeared face.

"You almost shot me." Daryl accused lightly, his tone clear that he didn't care. Carol smiled at him and shifted Judith's weight to her other arm.

"But I didn't, did I?" Carol mocked lightly, unaware of the wounds from bullets grazing him when he'd jumped off the fence. He blinked owlishly and staggered slightly on his feet. He was bleeding, he'd not eaten anything and had a serious lack of sleep. It was all becoming a bit much for him. Carol gripped his arm tightly, steadying him. Daryl looked at her.

"Oh but you might have," Daryl let his shirt fall open to reveal the wound on his chest.

"Oh Daryl, you should have told me. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. Let's get you inside and patched up. Then you're going to eat something and then sleep. You need to rest." Carol handed Judith to Beth who took her happily. Tyreese and Rick were checking the bodies of the walkers, making sure they were actually dead and dragging them into a big pile. Carol wrapped Daryl's arm around her shoulders and walked him into the common area.

* * *

Lying in the grass beyond the fence, hidden by the trees at the edge of the forest, watching the group mingle in the yard, piling the walkers up high. The man had seen the whole show and as much as he hated to admit it, had been impressed by the man running around the yard, climbing the fence and saving the Asian by the gate. The man had seemed unstoppable but there was something that seemed to keep him grounded. The grey haired lady in the guard tower, shooting walkers. His eyes had always gone back to her. When the group had finally cleared the yard, the man had joined the woman quickly after having a joke with the little boy.

The woman had taken him inside and now the group cleaned up the mess in the yard. The man in the grass cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, scratching his neck. He'd been here all day, waiting for his chance to strike. And now the yard was clear, it should be easy. He eyed the blonde haired girl with the infant and smiled. She looked weak, she would be his target. The man sighed to himself and contented himself with the fact he was a job that would earn him brownie points with the Governor.

He just had to wait.


	4. Chapter 4

Most of the Woodburians had gone outside into the yard to soak up the daylight but a few mingled in the common area. They quickly dispersed when they spotted Daryl and Carol, knowing full well that the hunter didn't like them. Carol made Daryl sit at a table before disappearing for a moment and coming back with Herschel's medical kit. She found a clean cloth and dampened it before using to to dab at the blood around the wound, cleaning the area around the wound. Daryl tensed under her touch but Carol worked away, pretending not to notice. She cleaned the wound with a fresh cloth that had rubbing alcohol on it. Daryl winced as it stung his wound.

"This might sting." Carol warned.

"You tell me after you've already done it? Gee thanks." Daryl grumbled unhappily. He looked at Carol who was smiling to herself, dabbing at the wound with the cloth.

"Daryl you're filthy, I suggest you take a shower after you've had some rest." Carol smiled, pulling out a needle and thread. Daryl raised an eyebrow and watched intently as she threaded the needle, "This might hurt."

"This time you got the warning right." Daryl gritted his teeth and stayed still as Carol started to stitch him up.

"I know the mud and dirt is like a coat of armour to you. It protects you from things. And I know its like a badge of honour to you, it makes you feel like you've earned your place here. But the truth is you' ve earned your place with the group a hundred times over. The dirtier you are, the more you feel like you belong I guess. You run around day and night, saving people or feeding us or keeping watch. You never have any down time. You need to pull back, let someone else take some of your work load." Carol stated matter of factly as she sewed him up. Daryl tensed up again.

"You're talkin' out your ass woman," Daryl snorted as Carol finished the stitches. She sat up and looked at him.

"I'm not. Daryl I know you. I know you feel the need to protect us all. I know you bear the dirt as some sort of badge of honour. I know you have your code. I know you pretend not to care about any of us but you do. Like when you saved Glenn in the yard, or when you took it upon yourself to go out searchin' for my Sophia. When you took an arrow and a bullet in the process." Carol's fingers lingered on the scar Daryl had got from when he had impaled himself on his own arrow, "I know you. I know you have your walls but you're gonna have to let someone in one day."

Daryl jerked away from her touch, "Your talkin' a load of shit."

What was it with Carol today. She was pushing much more than usual, she was testing him. Carol gave him a small smile and stood up. She rummaged through the food cupboards, found the oatmeal and prepared a small bowl for Daryl. She placed it infront of him and stabbed a spoon into the grey mush. Her hand were shaking. Daryl watched her turn away and go over to the sink, preparing to wash a load of dirty dishes the Woodbury residents had shoved to the side. This angered Daryl. They had swanned off and left someone else to clear up their mess. Daryl took a mouthful of the oatmeal but it was harder to swallow than usual. Still he ate until he heard a clatter of dishes and Carol curse.

"Fuck." Carol sounded like she was crying. Daryl turned round and saw Carol, crouched down and scooping up shards of a broken plate. Daryl crouched down behind her and caught her trembling hand. It was bleeding. Carol broke down into anguished sobs. Daryl laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, still holding her hand and helped her up. He led her over to the table and sat her down.

"I'm sorry Daryl. I push to hard...and I get wound up. But there has been things on my mind and I missed Sophia's birthday. I forgot about my baby girl's birthday until Sasha told me the date today. I forgot about her, for one day I forgot about her and it just happens to be her birthday." Carol sobbed, gulping and choking. Daryl found the cloth with alcohol on it and pressed it to Carol's hand. She didn't notice the sting, to caught up in her memories. Carol finally composed herself and wiped her eyes.

"I feel real silly now." She blushed. Daryl finished cleaning the wound on her hand and wrapped a bandage round it.

"The day is still young, we can go into the woods-" Daryl started but Carol cut him off.

"Oh and what might you be proposing?" Carol coughed dryly, a mischevious glint in her eyes.

"-and carve her name into a tree, or write her a message and burn it." Daryl finished, raising his eyebrow at Carol. Daryl stood up and took his empty oatmeal bowl to the sink where he quickly rinsed it before shaking his hands off and turning back to Carol, who looked to be deep in thought.

"Let's go carve her name into a tree. She loved nature." Carol decided, standing up and examining the dressing on her hand. Daryl nodded before running up the steps to his cell. His foot slipped on the edge of one of the steps and he skinned his shin as he fell, he quickly regain his footing before carrying on like nothing happened, ignoring Carol's giggles.

"Gotta fix that damn step." He growled to himself as he retrieved his crossbow from his bed and swung it over his shoulder, "Dumbass step." When he got back to the common area, Carol was still giggling as she made sure her knife was attached to her belt.

"Afraid to get a little down and dirty with a couple of walkers?" Carol asked, raising her eyebrow at the crossbow.

"This isn't for walkers, this is to fend you off." Daryl snorted. He rolled his shoulders and opened the door, holding it open for Carol. She looked mystified at his polite action but then he said, "Age before beauty." Carol hit him on the arm as she walked out the door, rolling her eyes at his fake 'Ouch'.

Daryl's eyes immediately wandered as he stepped into the sunlight. They lingered on the pile of corpses before darting to the people in the field, mingling and chatting, or simply strolling around the space. Daryl and Carol made there way down the yard and through the now fixed gates. Rick's eyes followed them, curiously wondering why they had disappeared into the woods together.

"Looks like someone other than Glenn is gettin' some." Tyreese's voice sounded in his ear. Rick jumped at the sound. He hadn't been aware of Tyreese standing next to him. Rick turned to the bigger man and raised an eyebrow.

"You think? That's not Daryl's style." Rick shook his head. Maybe Tyreese was right but it definitely didn't seem like something Daryl would comply with happily. There was more to it and Rick would respect their privacy. Tyreese snorted behind him, a chuckle in his throat. He muttered something that Rick couldn't make out before going off to join his sister.

* * *

Carol had never seen Daryl so relaxed but here he was, in the woods and totally care free. He had a look of happiness on his face, one that Carol had never seen before. He wasn't smiling but it shone in his eyes. They trudged further into the woods but Carol felt safe. She was with Daryl after all.

Daryl led the way, stepping over logs and dodging bushes. Daryl paused suddenly, held his hand up for Carol to stay back and waited. The sounds of branches breaking, twigs snapping and walkers groaning filled the silence.

"There's eight of them roughly. We can take them on or wait for them to pass," Daryl whispered, turning to Carol. Fear had imbedded itself in Carol's stomach and she didn't fancy her chances against an unknown amount of walkers, even with Daryl.

"Wait them out." She spat out. Daryl nodded and gestured to a big pine tree to his left. Carol realised what he was getting at and moved closer to the tree. She hid behind it but Daryl shook his head.

"Climb up it. Its funny to confuse them." He had a wolfish grin on his face. Carol tried to grab the lower branches but they were just out her reach. Daryl braced his back against the tree and cupped his hands, knees bent and waited. Carol put her foot in his hands and he boosted her up. She kept climbing until she was hidden amongst the firs. Daryl moved stealthily on the ground, bending down and scooping up rocks and pinecones, shoving them in his pockets. Finally the walkers came within view and Daryl pulled himself up the lower branches before waiting. Carol climbed down so she could get a better view of what he was doing.

The first walker ambled into view and Daryl flicked a small pebble at it. It hit the walker in the head, lodging itself in the rotting flesh. The walker spun around, looking for whoever had thrown the object now in his head. It wasn't particularly funny but it was amusing when there was eight or nine walkers, spinning and bumping into each other. A few attacked each other. Carol stifled a chuckle as they fought clumsily, then her heart dropped to her stomach. A small walker ambled into view. It was a little girl, no older than twelve years of age, with strawberry blonde curls and wearing a blue t-shirt with a rainbow on the front. The resemblence between Sophia and the walker was uncanny.

"Sophia? Sophia?" Carol mewed, reaching for the walker, in a trance. Daryl grabbed her by her waist, keeping a tight grip. He knew she wasn't seeing a walker but her little girl. Carol's eyes had spaced and she was obviously reliving memories. She struggled in Daryl's grip, tears streaming down her face. Daryl pinned her to the trunk of the tree, clamping a hand over her mouth and using his body to hold her in place. She wriggled back into his body.

Daryl bit his lip and looked around the tree as Carol continued to struggle, grinding into him. He blushed as she rubbed against his crotch. The blood rushed to his crotch and Daryl gasped as he realised what was happening. His body was reacting to a lady rubbing against him. His body was completely out of tune with the situation. Daryl couldn't let go of Carol until the walkers had passed, which didn't look like it would happen anytime soon, because if he did, she'd climb down the tree and embrace the child walker. Which would result in her immediate death. And that would be messy.

"Stay still." He growled in her ear, pushing her against the tree using his hand. He arched his body away from her, trying to keep some distance between their bodies. Carol was even harder to contain with only his hand. She was close to escaping his grasp. Daryl sighed before using his body to hold her to the tree again.

"Its not her. Its not Sophia." Daryl whispered in her ear. Carol finally stopped struggling and blinked owlishly. Her eyes focused on the tree right in front of her face.

"Why am I pinned to a tree? And your knife is diggin' into my back." She asked. Daryl slid away from her, shifting his crossbow in his lap in an attempt to cover his embarrassing situation. He glared at the walkers' stumbling about below the tree before spitting on the head of the closest one.

"You freaked out. You started trying to get down the tree." Daryl grumbled. The last of the walkers stumbled away, having caught the scent of something easier than Daryl and Carol. Daryl dropped out the tree, keeping his hands in front of his problem, in a casual manor. Carol dropped down next to him and stumbled. Daryl caught her with one hand and steadied her before letting her go. She nodded her thanks before trudging deeper into the forest.

Rushing water could be heard in the distance and Daryl led Carol towards it, keeping his back to her. The air was sweet with the smell of water-lillies when they finally arrived at a small lake with a river rushing into it. The water looked cold and Daryl imagined the cold water would have the same effect on his body as a cold shower would. He placed his crossbow down and jumped into the water. He gasped as the icy water made contact with his skin. He dived under, brushing his feet against the muddy bank. He could feel himself going soft, the blood rushing elsewhere. He bobbed to the surface and shook his hair out his eyes, like a dog. Droplets of water landed on Carol.

"Daryl what the hell are you doin?" Carol exclaimed, giggling.

"I was hot." He stated simply before splashing at Carol. She screamed playfully before darting behind a tree. Daryl hauled himself out the water, shook his head again and grabbed Carol when she thought she was safe. She came out from behind the tree and muscular arms wrapped around her, lifting her off the ground. Moments later she was submerged in freezing water. She pushed herself to the surface and groaned indignantly.

Daryl was sitting in the grass, angled towards the sun, crossbow in his lap and soaking wet. Carol climbed out the water and peeled her sodden sweater from her skin. She tied it around her waist and stalked off, knowing Daryl would follow, looking for a distinctive tree to carve her daughter's name into. Carol stopped suddenly, the perfect tree capturing her attention.

It was a thick willow tree, with the trunk split in two and curving away from each other. Smaller branches had intertwined around the trunks, creating a woven armour, protecting the tree. Carol found a spot on one of the trunks where the branches hadn't met each other yet and the trunk was exposed. She drew her knife and began to work, stabbing the knife into the tree.

Daryl stayed back, giving Carol space and privacy to work, keeping his eyes on the surrounding areas, looking for any signs of danger or something he could shoot for dinner. A squirrel scurried up a tree to his left and the arrow pierced it's furry body, pinning it to the tree. It died with a pained squeak. Daryl pulled his arrow out the tree and removed the skewered squirrel. He stuffed it under his belt as Carol finished her carving with a small grunt.

"D'you think this is okay?" She stepped back and turned to Daryl, hailing him forward. He stepped up and looked at the what she'd carved.

**Sophia Grace Peletier**

**11 years old**

**I miss you so much**

**xxx**

Daryl raised his eyebrow at Carol before nodding, "I think she'll like it." Carol wiped her eyes, wiping away the tears she had shed. She looked at Daryl and gave him a brief smile.

"Let's go home." Daryl nodded and followed her as Carol led the way through the woods. She truly was a marvellous creature. Daryl's eyes were drawn to the tanned arms that had become toned and weathered. He couldn't imagine Carol any other way. She had changed so much, she had become a different person. She no longer shied away from her own shadow, instead she embraced it.

They reached the prison shortly after sundown. Rick opened the gate for them with a curious look on his face but a knowing twinkle in his eye. A mischievious smile appeared on his lips.

"So...what have you guys been up to?" He could barely contain his laughter. Daryl looked at him curiously but Carol just giggled and punched Rick lightly on the shoulder.

"It weren't nothin' like that, you dirty old man."

Rick nodded and went back to keeping his eyes beyond the fence. Carol paused at the door leading into the cell block. Daryl almost bumped into her but managed to keep his body from touching hers.

"Back there, I know it wasn't your knife." Carol smiled before disappearing into the cell block, leaving the blushing hunter alone and embarrassed.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not sure if anyone is still reading this but I enjoy writing this fic and sharing my work with the world. But if you are reading and have any critique or praise or comments, drop a review below. It would make me very happy to know what you guys think :)**


	5. Chapter 5

That night, Daryl sat in his usual spot, watching the room and glaring at the Woodbury residents who thought it would be ok to come and attempt a conversation with him. His eyes kept going back to Carol. She seemed much happier now that Sophia had been remembered. She was talking with Tyreese, laughing at his jokes and touching his arm.

Daryl's jaw tightened as Tyreese gave her a hug and whispered something in her ear. Carol burst out laughing, breaking the hug but still within touching distance. He'd never seen Carol laugh like that and it was stirring up a feeling in his stomach. He couldn't put a name to it but felt an awful lot like...jealousy?

No!

Daryl didn't do jealous. He did angry, mad, grumpy, scary but never jealous. And it wasn't like he and Carol were a thing. Sure they were friends but that was it. That was all he wanted, right? Just to be friends.

Rick looked up from his plate of stew, his eyes immediately locking onto the hunter. Daryl had calmed down a lot over the past few months but his brother's death had flared up some of the old Daryl and Rick liked to keep an eye on him. Just to be safe.

At least that's what he told himself. Just to be safe.

He took in Daryl, running an eye over him. His jaw was locked and the muscle in his cheek was ticking away angrily. He was bristling with an unspoken rage. Rick's eyes followed Daryl's glare and saw what the problem was. Carol and Tyreese. The pair seemed to be flirting and chattering away happily, oblivious to Daryl's icy glare. Rick stood up and joined Daryl on his step.

"Glenn and Maggie want to have their weddin' some time next week. We should probably get some liquor for the ocassion, it is a celebration. So we need to make a few runs, would you be up to that?" Rick drawled, capturing Daryl's attention. Rick shifted his stance subtly so he blocked Daryl's view of Carol.

"I can do that," Daryl muttered distracted. He was craning his neck to try and see Carol. Rick folded his arms across his chest and stared at Daryl until their eyes finally met. Daryl nodded at him before standing up and disappearing up the stairs to his cell. Rick went back to his table and joined Herschel, Maggie and Glenn's conversation about the wedding.

Daryl didn't go to his cell, instead he went to the walkway that surrounded the common area, looking down on the people below. He stayed low and kept to the shadows as he stalked around until he was within earshot of Carol and Tyreese's conversation.

"Carol girl, you look exhausted. I'll take your guard duty tomorrow, let you get some rest. Hell knows you could use it." Tyreese chuckled, looking at Carol intently, his hand cupping her cheek and his thumb running over the bags beneath her eyes. Daryl held back a growl in his throat.

Carol looked up at Tyreese, batted her eyelashes and smiled, "I could kiss you. That is so sweet." She leant up, on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek before stretching and murmuring something about going to bed. Tyreese looked after her as she disappeared into her cell. Daryl backed away from the railing until his back was pressed against the wall. He pulled his knees up to his chest and tried to stop the hurt exploding in his chest.

Why was he feeling like this?

"It ain't nice is it?" A voice came from the shadows. Carl appeared and slumped next to Daryl, "It ain't nice when someone steals your woman."

"I don't know what you're talkin' bout." Daryl shrugged, side-eyeing the teen. Carl had changed drastically. He was no longer the annoying, innocent school boy. He was now a bona-fide killer. He took walkers down like he couldn't care less. He had shot his mom and hated the Woodbury residents.

"C'mon man, don't fuck with me. I've seen the way you look at her." Carl snapped. Daryl stood up and glared down at the boy.

"You have no idea." Daryl murmured before going back to his cell and collapsing on his bunk, the struggle of the day catching up with him. His head hurt, his chest hurt, his leg hurt but most of all his heart hurt.

He rolled over and drifted off into a light sleep. Daryl couldn't normally just drop off but the day had worn him down and he gave in to pure exhaustion.

* * *

_"Daddy it weren't me, I swear!" A 8 year old Daryl screamed at the man towering above him, "I didn't scratch your truck!" His father, Cooper Dixon was a bull of a man, with a beer belly and tufts of matted hair under his arms. He was often seen wearing a dirty vest, stained with beer and vomit. Ever since his wife had died last year he had become worse. He beat his sons frequently and for the tiniest of thing. _

_He glared at the runt of a boy cowering before him before raising his boot and stomping down on the boy's bare foot, crushing the toes. Daryl screamed in pain as the bones in his foot cracked. A huge hand smashed into his cheek, whipping Daryl's head to the side, blood and spittle splashing the walls. Cooper yanked the belt from his pants and kicked his son in the back of the leg, knocking him to the ground. _

_"Don't lie to me ya little fucker!" Cooper roared and brought the buckle of the belt down on Daryl's back, tearing the skin and drawing blood. He ignored his son's cries as he whipped his son continuously, his vision tinted red and the anger surging through him. He stopped once a dull ache had settled in his shoulder. He glared at his sniffling boy and waited. _

_The pain was too much. His cries and pleas for his Daddy to stop this pain, fell on deaf ears. Daryl's tears streamed down his face and dropped onto the carpet under him. His arms shook as he tried to push himself up from the ground. His pyjama shirt was sticking to his back and he knew it was his blood that was running down his arms. He blinked black spots from his eyes as he managed to get himself on all fours. _

_Cooper's foot smashed into Daryl's belly, forcing the air out his lungs and causing him to retch against the wall. Cooper grabbed the neck of Daryl's shirt and dragged him down the hall, kicked open the basement door and dragged his son into the basement, not caring that he was scraping his son's bare feet on the concrete. Daryl was crying and begging, "Please Daddy, not the freezer, please, please. Not the freezer." _

_The big chest freezer was a dull white and not used. Or for the right purposes. Cooper hoisted the lid up and bundled Daryl into it, slamming the door down. He locked the lid down, using a big padlock and a huge chain. _

_Daryl banged against the lid, his finger nails scratching at the walls and lid, trying to break free. His screams echoed around the small space. He smashed his foot against the side. He banged his fists against the lid. After a while he gave up, knowing it was no use and his Dad would free him in his own time. He studied the claw marks along the side of the freezer and the roof, before examining his torn knuckles and jagged nails as best as he could in the dark. _

_He lay in a pool of his own blood for what seemed like an eternity before he heard the front door crashing open and then the yelling began. _

_"Hey baby brother...Where the fuck is he? Did you lock him in the fuckin' freezer again?" It was Merle's voice. Merle would come and get him. _

_"The little fucker needed to be punished, scratchin' my truck like he did." Cooper roared and it sounded like he punched the wall. Something slammed against the wall and he knew it was Merle shoving Cooper. _

_"You touch him again, I'll fuckin' kill ya!" Merle's voice bellowed before he heard footsteps coming down the steps, slowly getting louder as he drew closer. There was a clicking noise and clanking metal then the lid was opened and Merle's hand scooped him up, lifting him out the box and giving him a hug. _

_Daryl buried his face in his brother's shoulder, sniffling and trying to stop the tears falling. Merle put him down and lifted up his shirt, looking at the fresh wounds on his back. Merle's jaw tightened and he ground his teeth together as he saw the shredded skin and the congealing blood. He dropped the shirt and crossed his arms across his chest. _

_"Let's get you cleaned up, eh?" He said gruffly before leading the way up the stairs and into the bathroom. Cooper stood in the doorway, blocking their way out of the basement. Merle looked at him before shoving him out the way and continuing to go up to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and waited for Daryl to get in and have a quick shower. While Daryl washed the blood off his back, occasionally whimpering when the water stung his wounds, Merle turned to the medicine cabinet and found antiseptic and some bandages._

_ When Daryl got out and had some pants on, Merle murmured, "This might hurt," And sprayed the anti-septic in the wounds before layering bandages on the worst of the wounds. Merle then led his brother to his room and put him to his bed, pulling the duvet up around him. _

_"Merle?" Daryl's voice was laced with sleepy and his eyes were drooping. _

_"What?" Merle asked, standing up and running a hand through his hair. _

_"Don't leave me alone with him again." Daryl whimpered._

_"I won't, I'll always be here. Now get some sleep, baby brother." Merle smiled and watched as the younger boy rolled over and drifted to sleep._

_When Daryl woke up, Merle had gone._

* * *

Daryl jerked awake. He was covered in sweat and had lots of thin, red scratches up his arms and face. He must have scratched himself when he was asleep, presumably during his attempts to escape the freezer. He sat up so fast he banged his head on the bed above.

"Fuck." He groaned and rolled out of bed. He pulled his boots on and left his cell. He glanced out the window that was filtering weak sunlight. It looked to be dawn but he couldn't be sure. He stalked out the common room and into the courtyard.

"Back off, Beth's my girl!" He heard a young voice shout. It was Nathan, the boy from Woodbury.

"You haven't got a chance, she doesn't know you. You know nothin' bout her." Carl sneered. Daryl saw Carl and Nathan arguing in the middle of the courtyard. Tyreese and Rick were in the guard towers, not really paying attention to the squabbling children.

"Hah, I have more of a chance with her. I'm 19, you're what? 12? Keep dreamin' kid, keep dreamin'." Nathan hissed.

"I'm 14, fuckwit!" Carl bit out. His hand itched towards his holster. It was a small gesture, probably one that Nathan didn't see but Daryl saw it. Nathan pushed Carl in the chest, "What did you call me? You best learn some respect."

"Kiss my ass." Carl snorted and shoved Nathan back. A look of anger flitted across the older boy's face and he shoved his black hair out his eyes before tackling the smaller boy, knocking his hat off. Carl managed to punch the older boy before scrambling back to give himself some space. Nathan lunged again but Carl dodged and used that to his advantage. He tackled Nathan and they fell over a bench, crashing into the concrete, punching each other.

Daryl sighed to himself before walking over to the fight. He barged inbetween the pair and grabbed each one by their ear. He was pleased by the chorus of 'Ow's,' that happened. He allowed the kids to get to their knees, still holding their ears, standing in the middle of them. He looked at each of them before a picture stuck in his mind. Rick had left the tower and was coming over.

"What the hell is goin' on here?" Rick demanded.

"He started it!"

"He called me a fuckwit!"

"He says Beth is _his _girlfriend but she ain't." Carl protested.

"She is, _I am _the most likely choice." Nathan argued. Daryl gave a firm tug to their ears, causing them to shut up.

"Right, I know for a fact, Beth ain't anyone's girlfriend. Let Beth choose if she wants to date either of you, it's her choice, not yours." Rick growled before storming off back to the guard tower. Daryl snorted, stifling a laugh.

"What?" Carl demanded indignantly.

"Huh, nothin'. I was just thinkin' if we were in prison, you'd be my bitches." He chuckled before adding, "And we are in prison." He released the boys and made his way over to his bike. He climbed aboard just as the door to the cell block opened and Carol came out, cradling Judith in her arms. She spotted Daryl and waved at him, a smile erupting on her face.

Daryl stared back at her, his heart heavy in his chest. He revved his engine as Carol started to come over to him, her smile fading as she got closer, as the thundery look on Daryl's face became more obvious.

"Carl open the gates!" Daryl yelled.

"Hey Daryl," Carol murmured from beside him, "You goin' on a run? Let me just go put Judith down and I'll come with you."

"No you won't." Daryl growled and pulled away from her, speeding down the yard and into the open road. His heart ached but he didn't look back, didn't look back as a sorry or even acknowledge her. He sped away, hoping to leave his thoughts and aching heart behind.

Of course he failed.

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry if this chapter isn't up to the usual standard, I've been distracted today and quite sad. As most of you probably know, Cory Monteith sadly passed away on Saturday, and I found out today. **

**I'm a big gleek (Random fact) so was shocked and greatly upset when I woke up and found out one of my idols had died.**

**So I would like to dedicate this chapter to Cory, a very talented person who was taken far too young. My thoughts and prayers go out to his family, fellow Gleeks, his glee family and especially Lea. She was meant to be planning a wedding, now she's planning a funeral :'(**

**Drop a review below, I accept all comments, critique and suggestions but no hate please, it will only make me feel worse. **


	6. Chapter 6

Daryl ground his teeth together and skidded to a halt, cutting the engine of the bike. He had come further out that he usually did, hoping to find a goldmine of supplies, like food and maybe some more baby formula. He also wanted to get away from it, to try and clear his thoughts. He needed to get Carol out his mind but she was always there, lingering in his memories and popping into his head randomly.

He realized he _had _been a dick to Carol, he had been rude to her, he had shunned her. But she had just gave up so easily, usually she fought for his attention, usually she fought for his coversation, she sought him out. She usually always came looking for him, not the other way round. But she had just let it be today, she had accepted his rejection and that made Daryl feel worse. It made him feel like he wasn't important to her, like he didn't matter anymore now that she had Tyreese, and that made him angry. He was being replaced.

_Stop being silly, you didn't give her a chance._

Daryl sighed and rolled his bike further into town, using his feet to push him along. It would be easier than having to carry things back to bike and load them in the saddle bags. the town looked like it had been ignored all through the apocalypse. Daryl stopped as he came to a cluster of stores, a pharmacy, a bar, a grocery store and a jewellery store. Daryl climbed off his bike, armed his crossbow and pulled a rucksack out his saddlebags before going into the bar.

A lone walker sat at the bar, groaning but made no attempt to move. Daryl crept up behind it, pulled it off it's stool and stomped down on it's head. He kept stomping until his boot and pant leg was covered in brain matter and black blood. He was venting his anger. He finally stopped and clambered over the bar. He hit the jackpot. He grabbed bottles of scotch, bourbon, a few bottles of wine (for the more refined residents) and a couple of bottles of vodka. He realized people probably wouldn't drink the vodka but it could be used to sterilize wounds or whatever. He loaded the bottles into his rucksack before easily locating the cellar. He could hear the groans and moans of walkers behind the doors.

He opened the doors and immediately recoiled, covering his nose with his wrist. The stench was horrible, like a thousand dead bodies mixed with shit. Daryl groaned but no walkers came forth, no walkers tried to eat him. He reached into his rucksack pocket and pulled out his flashlight. He flicked it on and regretted it instantly.

Roughly 30 walkers had been in the cellar, all crammed together in the small cellar, rotting into each other and fusing together over a vast period of time. In the middle of the cellar was a big mushy pile of walkers, melted together, some dead and some alive, some just complete mush, some half mush. It was like a big sack of organs and brains. Daryl gagged and pulled his red cloth from his back pocket. He tied it over his nose and mouth, blocking out the worst of the smell. The rag didn't smell that good but it was a hundred times better than the cellar.

He edged forward to the first rack of bottles and found seven bottles of champagne. He squeezed them into his rucksack and delved deeper into the cellar, keeping as much distance as possible from the walker mush. He found a pallet of beer and used his knife to cut a couple of trays out of the mass. He hoisted the trays up onto his shoulder and retreated from the cellar, kicking the door shut behind him. He returned to his bike and slid the trays of beer into a saddlebag before heading over to the pharmacy.

The pharmacy was filled with things and Daryl stuffed as much as he could into his rucksack. He grabbed bandages, aspirin, cough medicine, anitbiotics, medical tape, wipes, diapers. He paused when he saw shower gel and shampoo. Should he get some of that, so that the girls could smell good for the wedding? He reluctantly grabbed bottles of shampoo and body wash, barely managing to get them in the rucksack. He found a few bottles of cheap perfume and shoved them in his pockets. He went back to his bike and squeezed his rucksack into the other saddlebag.

He found some baby formula in the grocery store, along with tins of food that he squeezed into the saddlebag with the beer. He was in the jewellery store when he heard the groans. He was studying a leather wrist band. He had already found a silver bracelet dotted with sapphires and had put it his pocket for some reason. He wasn't sure why, he just felt compelled to pick it up and keep it. The groaning got louder and a walker smashed into the back of the store. Another followed. Daryl ran outside to his bike, climbed on and revved the engine as walkers came burst out of a store nearby and filtered towards the smell of fresh meat. Daryl revved the engine again before turning quickly and racing away. The bike was heavier than it had been when he had arrived at the town.

The groans of the walkers died as he got further away from the town.

* * *

He arrived back at the prison sometime mid-afternoon. Glenn opened the gate for him and he stopped the bike in the courtyard, next to the cars and bus the Woodbury residents had arrived on. Rick greeted him as he cut the engine off.

"Did you get anything?" He asked. Daryl grunted and jerked his head towards the saddlebags, "Shit load, not just booze but some medical shit too." He climbed off his bike and grabbed the rucksack. He lifted a tray of beer from the other bag before heading towards the cellblock, leaving Rick to get the other tray of beer and the baby formula and food. He transferred the contents of his bag to the kitchen area of the cellblock before going to find Maggie and Beth in the laundry room.

Maggie finished folding the sweater she was holding and looked up, "Daryl, hey."

"Here, I got this for you, figured you could use it for the weddin'." He tossed her the bottles of shower gel, shampoo and perfume.

"You sayin' I smell?" Maggie grinned but Daryl knew she was joking.

"Well nobody smells like flowers these days, all I'm sayin'. Figured you'd want to smell good for the weddin', all you ladies." Daryl nodded before turning and leaving. He went up to his cell, figuring he'd get some sleep before his guard duty at night.

He kicked off his boots and lay on his bunk, his hands behind his head. He stared at the bunk above him, waiting for sleep to take him, willing to be out of the loop for a few hours. Naturally, sleep chose to be annoying and avoid him, making him wait.

Eventually Daryl got bored so he sat up and started to clean his crossbow, using his red rag to wipe away dirt and dust, polishing the crossbow. There was a knock on the wall and Daryl looked up to see Glenn standing there, looking awkward and twisting his hands.

"Uh...Daryl...I just want to say thanks for...savin' my butt basically. Um yeah, you didn't have to, especially after I'd been such a dick about...about Merle and stuff. I'm sorry about that, I shoulda gave him a chance. But um...yeah, thank you for savin' me I guess." Glenn lingered in the doorway, looking really awkward. Daryl side-eyed him.

"Do you want anythin' else?" He asked and Glenn shifted nervously.

"Uh, can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot." Daryl sighed, still side-eying Glenn.

"How...how did Merle...die?" Glenn fidgeted, looking extremely uncomfortable. Daryl tensed up, straightening upright. He had a rough idea of what had happened that day, Michonne had told him that Merle had kidnapped her and started taking her to the silo for a trade with the Governor. They hijacked a car and talked and Merle let her go. Daryl knew that much was certain, he believed Michonne, but then he saw the bodies of the Governor's men and the walkers. He imagined Merle going out in a blaze of glory, shooting up the Governor's men before he was shot by the Governor.

"He was shot. In the chest. Twice. I reckon he took out a bunch of the Governor men, from all the bodies." Daryl stated simply, shrugging and sighing.

"He died giving us some more time? That don't sound like him." Glenn looked dubious, his eyebrow arched.

"Sometimes you gotta do somethin' that ain't the best for you, but the best for someone else." Daryl stood up, his throat thick thinking about his brother. He pushed past Glenn, making it clear that the conversation was over.

He jogged out into the courtyard, into the little fenced area of benches and punched the wall, a cry of anger leaving his lips. He leant his head against the wall, ignoring the ache in his fist, leaving it where it was. He was blinking furiously and wiped his eyes with his wrist before the tears could come. He was furious with himself, for almost crying. He was so weak. He took a deep, calming breath and turned around to leave when a hand whipped into his cheek with a loud crack.

It was Carol. She had slapped him. Daryl turned to her, bristling with rage, rubbing his jaw. He stared down at her, waiting for her to speak.

"What's you're problem? You've ignored me all day, for some reason. All I've done is be kind to you, I've been your friend!" Carol yelled.

"Why don't you go complain to your boyfriend about it?" Daryl sneered and went to leave but Carol shoved him back.

"You listen to me Daryl Dixon. Don't stalk off and ignore me. What the hell are you talkin' bout? My boyfriend? I don't what's wrong with you!" Carol snapped. She looked angry but also kinda scared, like Daryl might hit her.

"Don't lie to me woman. I saw you and Tyreese, flirtin' and kissin' and huggin', being all loved up." Daryl snarled, his jaw locking in place. His blue eyes searched Carol, racing over her body, noting every curve, every freckle. He dared her to lie to him, dared her to tell him that she didn't feel anything for Tyreese. Carol swallowed.

"We're just friends." She lied. Daryl knew she was lying, he knew her tell, he knew the signs. She avoided his eyes and fidgeted. Daryl could see the beads of sweat forming at her hairline.

"Don't lie Carol. I know you feel something for him." He murmured softly before his voice hardened, "It's wrong. It's the end of the fuckin' world and all you care about is love."

"Dammit Daryl! You don't get it! I don't want to feel so damn alone anymore! I want to be loved! I've been alone ever since I married Ed!" Carol's voice broke and tears trickled down her cheeks, "I want to be apprieciated, I want to be loved. I don't want to feel so damn alone!" Carol broke down, sobbing, "Tyreese makes me feel good, he makes me feel like I have a purpose!"

Daryl frowned, taking in her words. He watched her for a moment before looking around. Tyreese was storming towards them, obviously worried about Carol and why she was crying. Daryl gave Carol one last look before squeezing past her and storming towards the guard tower, intent on taking watch early. Tyreese grabbed him by the arm as he passed. Daryl stiffened at the touch.

"Let go if you don't want to become walker chow." Daryl snarled, trying to snatch his arm back. Tyreese tightened his grip but then saw the look Daryl had on his face and dropped his arm.

"What did you say to Carol?" Tyreese questioned. Daryl stared back at him, his eyes steely. He spat at Tyreese's feet before stalking off to the guard tower. He took the stairs two at a time. Karen was on guard, her rifle on her shoulder and looking beyond the fences lazily. Daryl sat in the tower, slumped in a chair and put his feet up.

He reached up to the shelve he'd hidden his cigarettes and matches and pulled them down. He lit up quickly and took a long drag. Karen turned around and noticed him for the first time. She stuck her head in the door, "Is it your turn for watch already?"

"You're gettin' relieved early." Daryl blew smoke out his mouth. Karen nodded and turned to leave before turning back to him, "Do you want some company?"

Daryl arched his eyebrow and shook his head, "Nah." Why would someone want to spend time with him? He made women cry, he was mean. He was a dirty redneck. He was useless trash. He was broken, he was damaged, he was a piece of shit. Karen nodded and left him wallowing. Why didn't he understand when a woman wanted him?

She sighed as she walked down the steps. She saw Tyreese hugging Carol who seemed like she was crying. Karen figured it had something to do with Daryl and why he was in such a stinking mood. She went into the cellblock and struck up a conversation with Beth and Herschel.

Meanwhile in the guard tower, Daryl was onto his second cigarette, he was running his hands through his hair, gripping handfuls of it, his eyes tearing up. He was a bad person. If there was a heaven and a hell, he would definetly be going to the latter. He'd be joining Merle. He blinked tears from his eyes but couldn't stop them from coming. He pinched the bridge of his nose and broke down sobbing, everything hitting him at once. The stress, the hurt, the grief, the tension, the pain all hitting him in a big wave.

Daryl stayed in the guard tower, crying.

* * *

**A/N: You guys know what to do :)**

**Drop a review!**


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl managed to compose himself long before anyone else came up the tower. He sat in a steely silence, staring beyond the fence but not really watching. When someone finally did come up to relieve him, it was Rick.

"Anythin' goin' on?" Rick asked, leaning over the railing next to Daryl.

"It's all quiet." Daryl grumbled before standing up and stretching, "I'm gonna go get some food. Or somethin'" Rick nodded and let Daryl leave. He could sense something was up with the hunter but he wasn't going to press him for answers. He watched as Daryl strode across the courtyard and entered the cellblock.

Daryl squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light in the cellblock. His eyes immediately sought her out though, searched through the throng of people in the common room until they spotted her. She was coddling Judith. Once Daryl spotted her, he went over to his seat on the steps. He rested his head in his hands and glared at the Woodbury residents.

Herschel hobbled over, a bowl of stew in his hands. He lowered himself onto the step next to Daryl before holding the stew out to him. Daryl took it and nodded his thanks.

"Things seem a little tense between you and Carol," Herschel drawled, propping his crutches against the steps. Daryl stayed quiet, pushing a piece of squirrel stew around with his fork.

"I know you'll make it right." Herschel croaked before getting up, tucking his crutches under his arms. Daryl stared at the bowl of stew, pushing it around but not eating it. His appetite had gone. He scowled to himself before pushing himself to his feet, leaving his cold stew on the step. He glanced at Carol and saw her and Tyreese chatting, sharing a bowl of stew. He darted up to his cell and gripped the doorframe. Numbness was spreading through him, taking over.

He collapsed on his bed, breathing heavily, his hands balled into fists. He was fighting the urge to hit something, preferably Tyreese's face. He leapt to his feet and felt in his pocket, his fingers enclosing around the cool metal of the bracelet. He pulled it out and examined it closely. It was a basic design, dotted with sapphires. He turned it over and saw something engraved on the inside.

_Nobody Loves Me Like you Do_

Daryl chuckled when he saw it. Love was in the air, just not for him. He sighed and left his cell. As he passed Carol's cell, he tossed the bracelet on her bed. He trotted down the stairs and shot Carol a look before disappearing from the common room.

He didn't stop until he was in the solitary corridor. He paused outside the cell that he'd found Carol in, barely conscious and suffering from dehydration. He had thought it was a walker behind the door, feebly trying to escape. He had kicked the door in rage before dragging the fat walker blocking the door out the way.

He pressed his hand against the cell door before opening it. His eyes darted to the corner in which he'd found Carol. The door was scratched from where she had tried to escape. Daryl ran his fingers over the gouges, picturing Carol's meek form pawing at the door. Daryl rocked back on his heels before pulling the knife from his belt.

It was Carol's original knife, the one that Daryl had found imbedded in the fat neck of a walker. He had kept it because he thought it held the last memory of Carol, feebly stabbing a walker before it bore down on her and devoured her. It symbolised her going out fighting. And now she was alive, so the sybolism of the knife was gone. He'd never had the heart to return the knife to Carol because of the emotions it contained.

Daryl had adopted the knife as his own, keeping his first knife under his bed in his cell, as a spare. He studied the sharp blade, running his fingers over the tip. The blade had become dull over time and constant sharpening. His finger slipped over the blade, drawing him out of his reverie. He winced and glanced down. Blood was running down his hand. It wasn't a bad cut, he'd had paper cuts worst than this, but it stung. He crouched down and swiped the his finger on the wall, in a cross. He propped the knife against the wall under the cross before wiping his finger on his pant leg and leaving.

* * *

Carol placed Judith down in the makeshift cot in her room before dropping down on her bed, dragging her wrist across her brow, wiping sweat away. It was warm in the cell block, too warm to be comfortable. Judith had been harder to settle than usual, probably because of the heat, but Carol had managed to get her to sleep.

Someone knocked on the doorway to her cell. Carol propped herself up on her elbows and looked over to the door. It was Tyreese. Carol forced a small smile, she had really been hoping it would be a tall, muscular hunter. Tyreese grinned before coming in and sitting next to Carol on the bed. Carol sat up and crossed her legs.

"Hey," She smiled, smoothing down her bed sheets, "We need to be quiet, Judith's asleep."

"She finally settled? You must be a miracle worker. She was bawlin' earlier." Tyreese grinned, keeping his voice low.

"I've had a lot of practice with babies. My daughter, Sophia, was a very cholicky baby. But she was worth it, they always are." Carol's smile drooped a bit as she thought about her dead daughter, "They grow up so fast."

"Where is she now? Did she go off to college or somethin' before all this started?" Tyreese asked quietly.

Carol raised an eyebrow, "How old do you think I am?" She teased lightly before becoming serious, "She died."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Tyreese murmured before asking quietly, "How?"

"A walker." Carol said softly, "We stopped to siphon gas and get supplies. We stuck in the middle of the highway, snarled up in all the cars. A herd of walkers passed through. We were all hidin' under cars and I guess Sophia...I guess she thought it was safe to get out." Carol swallowed, "And a couple'a stray walkers found her. They chased my baby into the woods. Rick went after her, managed to draw the walkers away and kill them. When he got back to the place he'd left Sophia, she'd gone." Carol blinked tearfully. Tyreese wiped the stray tears off her cheek.

"You musta been pissed at Rick, for losin' your little girl." Tyreese stated and Carol shook her head, a small chuckle leaving her lips.

"I tried to be but I couldn't. I knew it weren't his fault, and then Carl got shot. Daryl took it upon himself to find my little girl, he took an arrow and a bullet in the process." Carol allowed herself a small smile as she recalled the way Daryl had gone out every day, looking.

"He didn't do a very good job, if you never found her." Tyreese sneered, obviously taking a dig at Daryl, "I thought he was supposed to be a hunter." Carol didn't jump to Daryl's defence like she usually did. She figured he deserved some slander on his good name.

"Oh no, we eventually found her, all chewed up and zombified. Rick shot her." Carol rubbed her eyes and stretched. She stifled a yawn.

"I should let you get some sleep." Tyreese stood up, giving Carol space to lie down. He bent down and took Carol's face in his hands. He pressed a firm kiss to her lips. Carol froze as Tyreese worked away on her lips, her eyes wide open, taken by surprise. That just happened to be the moment when Daryl decided to come and apologise. He froze in the doorway, a look of hurt flitting across his face and staying in his eyes. He stormed away. Carol spotted him and her own heart ached for him, wanting Daryl to be the one kissing her. Not the one hurting.

Tyreese drew back and left with a quick, "G'night."

Carol ran her fingers over her lips, remembering the warmth of Tyreese's on hers. It wasn't unpleasant but he wasn't the one she wanted to kiss. He wasn't the one she wanted. The one she wanted was just too coward to act on his feelings.

She wriggled down in her bed, feeling something hard under her back. She arched her body before reaching under to grab it. Her fingers wrapped around something cold and she pulled it free. It was a bracelet, dotted with saphhires that brought out her eyes. She turned it over, instantly knowing who it was from. Her heart broke when she read the message on the inside.

* * *

Daryl paced courtyard angrily. He knew Carol and Tyreese were more than _just friends._ What hurt him the most, other than the fact she didn't love him, was that she had lied to him. She had looked him in the eye and said they were just friends. He glanced at the guard towers. Rick and Michonne were on watch and Rick was watching him intently.

Daryl met his eyes, sending a silent message.

_I'm okay. Don't worry about it. _

Rick nodded and turned his attention to the fences, keeping his steely gaze on the walkers. Daryl sighed and stretched. A horrible smell invaded his nostrils. Daryl looked around warily before realizing the smell was him. He was the one who stunk. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a shower or washed. Sure he'd been in a couple of rivers but he hadn't scrubbed the dirt from his skin. He glanced over to the shower block. It looked empty and no steam was curling out of the doorway.

He padded over and tentatively entered. The showers were empty and the only sound was the dripping of water. Daryl sighed to himself before unbuttoning his shirt and draping it on a hook near the entrance. He kicked his boots and socks off before unbuckling his belt and slipping his pants off. He kept his underwear on, just incase anyone walked in on him. Daryl and the group may have been together for almost a year but that didn't mean he wanted them seeing his junk.

Heck, only Herschel, Rick and Glenn knew about his scars. Carol probably had an inkling about them but she'd never seen the upfront. Daryl felt oddly ill at ease as he turned a shower on and stood under the water. Something in the pit of his stomach just refused to relax.

The warm water relaxed his tense muscles but he still couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Daryl ignored the feeling and closed his eyes, tilting his head back so the water ran down his face. His eyes opened and he looked around the showers, his eyes zoning in on bottles of shower gel and shampoo on a shelf. Maggie must have used them earlier. Daryl walked over to them and found the least feminine bottles. Luckily he'd picked up some shower gel made for men. He picked up a bottle of shampoo, not really caring what kind it was.

Daryl squirted the shower gel into the palm of his hand before rubbing it all over his chest, back and arms, massaging it in. He rubbed it undeer his arms and up his legs before stepping back under the water. The foam ran off him, a murky grey colour with all the dirt. Once Daryl was satisfied he squeezed shampoo into his hair before rubbing it in, making sure his fingers rubbed his skull. He rinsed quickly and closed his eyes, letting the water run over him. It was pleasant, it felt good being clean again.

A gasp forced his eyes open. Beth stood in the doorway, taking in the sight of Daryl showering. A shadow slipped in behind her before clamping a hand over her mouth and pulling a knife to her neck. The figure pushed further into the shower, obviously not seeing Daryl. It was the big black guy that had stolen Daryl's crossbow when he was captured in Woodbury. Another figure pushed in behind him, talking nervously.

"I don't think they saw us Bowman." The second figure was smaller, more mouse like. He spotted Daryl and surged towards him. He tackled Daryl into the wall, getting the upperhand due to surprise. Daryl hadn't expected anyone to ruin showertime. The mousy dude tried to keep Daryl pinned to the wall.

"Keep 'im down, Dexter!" Bowman growled, tightening his grip on Beth. Dexter's hands wrapped around Daryl throat and began to squeeze. Daryl raised his knee and it smashed in Dexter's stomach, breaking his grip. Daryl grabbed the smaller man by his hair and smashed his face into the wall, knocking him unconscious. Daryl turned to Bowman, who had pulled crossbow from his back and was loading it. He had pushed Beth to the ground and had his foot pressed on her back, using a considerable amount of his weight to keep her down.

Tears streamed down Beth's face and moans of pain left her. She met Daryl's eyes and he could see the sheer terror in them. Daryl was unarmed, his crossbow was back in his cell and his knife was in his pants, on the hook. Daryl ran towards Bowman, but missed. He slipped on the puddles of water caused from his shower and crashed into the wall. His ribs groaned in protest as he smashed into the wall. Daryl stifled a groan before looking up. He was under the hook that held his clothes. He reached up, grabbed his pant leg and pulled them off the hook. He freed his knife and stagged to his feet, woozy.

There was a click then pain exploded through Daryl's left shoulder. His vision blurred as the pain almost became too much but then he heard Beth's squeal and he focused. Bowman had Beth on her feet again, his blade once again pressed to her throat.

"Let her go." Daryl croaked. He glanced at his shoulder and almost fell to his knees. An arrow was sticking out of his shoulder, imbedded in the flesh. He winced.

"What you gonna do bout it? Kill me? Well you can't," Bowman sneered, "Now you're gonna let us leave. You can keep Dexter here, do what you wish with him. But I'm gonna go, with Blondie."

"I said let her go. You ain't escapin' here. Over my dead body." Daryl panted.

"That can be arranged," Bowman snarled. Daryl blinked black spots from his view before remembering the knife in his hand. He lifted it up and stared at it. Could he? Could he throw it? Would he hit Bowman? Or Beth?

Daryl sighed before lining up the knife with his target. He would just have to trust his aim. Which was easier said than done. On a normal day, he could throw a knife with perfect precision but today he was in pain, he was bleeding and the man held Beth as a human shield. He would just have to trust his aim, trust his instinct.

The blade arched through the air and imbedded itself in a skull.

* * *

**A/N: How is everyone? This chapter contains some romance, talks, action. And a clean Daryl. Who had seen the Walking Dead Season 4 trailer? It looks freaking awesome!**

**Anyways you guys know what to do , drop a review below :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**WARNING: This chapter contains rape and abuse.**

* * *

Beth screamed, the blade that was once held to her throat, clattered to the ground. Bowman landed with a dull thud. Daryl slid to the ground, blinking. His shoulder throbbed, the pain exploding through him not that the immediate danger was gone. His fingers gripped the fabric of his pant leg and pulled then close. He slipped them on, slowly but determined. He wasn't going into the cell with only his underwear on. He pulled his boots on, leaving the laces undone. He forced himself to rise but wobbled on his feet. Beth hurried over and gripped his arm, steadying him. He nodded his thanks before staggering over to Bowman's corpse.

Bowman hadn't died immediately, he was gasping like a fish, Daryl's knife sticking from his forehead. Daryl put his foot on the handle of the blade and pressed down, shoving the blade deeper into Bowman's skull. Bowman gurgled something and his eyes met Daryl's before all the life left him. Daryl understood the message and it confused him.

_Thank You_

Daryl stooped, groaning in pain, his fingers wrapping around the hilt of his knife. He wrenched in free and tucked it in his belt. He groaned again before standing up.

Dexter stirred, groaning slightly. Daryl stumbled over and was about to finish him off when a voice squeaked, "We need to get you back to my Daddy,"

"I'll be fine for a minute," Daryl grunted. He pulled the belt from Bowman's corpse then he pulled the belt from his pants. He straddled Dexter and trussed his hands and feet before rolling him on his front. Daryl winced as he accidently jerked his shoulder. He grabbed the belt tying Dexter's feet together and dragged him into the courtyard, Beth following anxiously. Carl was in the courtyard, sharpening his knife. Daryl whistled to him, catching his attention.

Carl saw the arrow in Daryl's shoulder and strode over quickly. As he got closer he saw the thin, bloodied line across Beth's throat. Anger rose in him, someone had hurt Beth.

"What happened?" Carl seethed, "Who hurt you Beth? I'll kill him!" He examined Beth's neck before giving her a hug. Then he turned to Daryl, "I'll watch this fuckface, you get that seen to."

"Carl, get someone to check the fences, and...get...burn the body in the shower block. Keep this fucker alive, I'll deal with him later. " Daryl instructed before staggering forward into the cellblock. The pain was overwhelming him. He blocked out the voices around him, the mindless chatter giving him a headache. He rested his forehead on the tabletop.

_"Aw baby brother got a booboo? That ain't jackshit!" _Merle's voice echoed around his head. A gentle had rested on his shoulder and Daryl jolted upright. It was Herschel.

"You know, Daryl, if you want to talk to me, you don't have to keep gettin' hurt." Herschel drawled, a smile on his features. Daryl gave a pained smile.

"Let's get you into a cell, it'll be easier to sort there and you'll have some privacy." Herschel smiled before hobbling towards the stairs. He tucked his crutches under one arm and held the railing with the other. He hopped up the stairs with ease before disappearing into Daryl's cell. Daryl trailed after him, staggering numbly. Beth had gone to get Maggie under Herschel's instructions.

Daryl sat on his bed, blinking listlessly. Herschel propped his crutches against the bed and sat down on a stool, opposite Daryl. Maggie arrived a few moments later, carrying Herschel's medical bag. Herschel began to poke and prod at Daryl's shoulder, examining it intently. He sometimes murmured things to Maggie. Finally he finished his assessment and spoke.

"It appears that the tip has become wedged in your shoulder joint. We can't just pull the arrow out as it would cause nerve damage, and rip the tissue and muscles. The easiest way to get the arrow out, is to dislocate your shoulder, pull it out and relocate your shoulder. It will hurt." Herschel stated, his face contorted with concentration. Daryl nodded sullenly. Herschel straightened Daryl's arm and Maggie slid behind him on the bed. She smashed the base of her palm at Daryl's shoulder joint from such an angle, the bone popped right out.

Daryl roared in pain, black spots dancing across his vision. He gasped then there was a tugging and the arrow was ripped from his shoulder, causing him to scream in even more pain. Herschel straightened his arm and thrust, popping the joint back into it's socket. Daryl roared in agony, slumping sideways into his pillow. Pressure was applied to the wound. Daryl sat up gasping from the pain. Herschel set about cleaning and stitching the wound before binding a long bandage around the wound. He made a sling out of a linen and fixed it around Daryl.

"All better." Herschel smiled once Daryl was suitably bandaged and the sling was in place. Daryl slumped back on his bed and groaned, "Fuck you." Herschel chuckled lightly before getting to his feet and hobbling from the room.

"Get some sleep." Maggie smiled, patting him on the leg before gathering up the medical stuff and following her Dad. Daryl lay in his bed, chuckling and groaning in pain.

* * *

Carol found Tyreese in his cell, talking to Sasha. She smiled at the siblings. Sasha stood up, "I'll give you guys some privacy." She smiled and left. Carol smiled after her and sat on the bed next to Tyreese.

"Hey." She smiled, "We...um...we need to talk."

"About what?" Tyreese smiled, "We could talk later and do some stuff now."

"Look Tyreese, I'm gonna be blunt with you because I respect you. I...I...I don't want a relationship with you. And I know I may have led you on and that's not fair on you." Carol stated. Tyreese bit his lip.

"It's because of him, isn't it?" Tyreese mumbled, "I know you like him, and I think we should give it a try, because I know I'm the only one that stands to get hurt, and I'm okay with that." Tyreese looked so sad. Carol took his hands.

"You may be okay with that but I'm not okay with being the one hurting you. You deserve so much better than what I can give you. I'm truly sorry if I led you on, if I made you think that we had something going on but we don't. I love you...just not that way." Carol smiled sadly. Tyreese nodded in understanding.

"But I want you. I don't care if you think I deserve better." Tyreese pleaded. Carol shook her head, "We should just remain friends."

"Can I at least get a kiss where you respond?" Tyreese asked hopefully. Carol nodded, figuring she owed him that much. She leant up and pressed her lips to his. Tyreese responded enthusiastically, his mouth opening. Carol pulled away after a moment.

Just then a roar of pain ripped through the cellblock. Others followed. Carol tensed up, her eyes darting to the doorway, because she knew who the screams belonged to. He sounded like he was in so much pain. Carol wanted to run to him but she didn't. She turned to Tyreese who was watching her, "Friends?"

"Friends." Tyreese nodded. Carol stood up and left the cell. More screams echoed, coming from the cell at the end. Carol sighed and darted into her own cell to check on Judith. The baby was still sleeping soundly. The screams stopped and a few moments later, Herschel and Maggie walked past her cell.

Carol sighed and slumped back on her beds, tired and confused about her feelings. It took all her will power not to go to him.

* * *

Daryl's eyes fluttered and he awoke with a gasp. He sat up, ignoring the ache in his shoulder, breathing heavily. He looked around, sure someone was watching him. He found no one. He wiped sweat off his brow and shuffled off the bed. He grabbed his crossbow and slung it over his back. His arm hurt but he shoved the pain down with a grimace and staggered down the walkway. He glanced involuntarily into Carol's cell. She was sleeping, hugging her pillow.

Daryl smirked before stumbling down to the common area. He was going hunting, he needed to do something. He hated being injured, all the waiting around and resting. A growl came from one of the lower cells, stopping Daryl in his tracks. He pulled his crossbow from his back and loaded it awkwardly. He held it one hand before going to check the cells.

Another growl sounded and Daryl pinpointed where it came from. He crept along the cell row, stopping outside the cell the sounds had come from. He peeked into the cell. Herschel was fast asleep but the old Woodbury resident he shared a cell with, had risen to his feet, snarling. His night gown hung open and he shuffled across the small space, growls off hunger leaving his lips.

He had become a walker. He must have died in his sleep and become a walker. Daryl sighed and lined up his sights. He aimed and fired easily, the arrow sailing through the air and connecting with the walker's head, piercing the skull and lodging itself deep in the walker's brain. The walker fell to the ground with a thud. Herschel snorted in his sleep and jolted upright. He looked around, bleary eyed.

His eyes widened when he saw the dead walker. He saw the arrow and glanced at the doorway. He saw Daryl and sighed in relief. Daryl nodded at him before trailing back to the common area, holding his shoulder. He sat down at a table and grimaced in pain. Loading and firing the crossbow had been a bad idea, he must have jerked his arm and now his shoulder hurt like hell.

Someone sat down next to him causing him to look up. It was Rick. His face was screwed up with concern.

"How's the arm?" He asked, running his eyes over the sling.

"Been better." Daryl grunted and rolled his shoulder in the sling. It caused pain but it was bearable. He was satisfied that he could still use his arm and looked at Rick.

"What happened in the shower block?" Rick crossed his arms and frowned, still not totally sure what had happened in the shower. He'd spoken to Beth but she had been crying and gasping. He hadn't got much from her other than two guys had grabbed her and gone into the shower block. Daryl just happened to be there and shit hit the fan.

"I was...I was washin' and these guys, one was called Bowman, the Governor's second lapdog. He had Beth by her throat and then the small scrawny fucker came in, attacked me. I knocked him out then got shot by the lapdog. Threw my knife at him and killed him though. He ain't comin' back I can assure you." Daryl smirked, "Where is the scrawny bastard? I might pay him a visit later."

"Michonne's keepin' an eye on him. He's in the guard tower." Rick allowed himself a small smile before becoming serious again, "I don't want this to turn into another Randall situation again, y'know? That wouldn't be good."

"I'm sure he's one of the Governor's men. I'll find out when we get reaquainted." Daryl sighed before standing up, "Some of the oldies are dyin' in their sleep. One almost got Herschel, might wanna clear the corpse out the cell." Daryl yawned and wobbled slightly on his feet.

Rick gripped his arm, "I'll sort it out. You go get some rest." Daryl nodded and stumbled back to his cell. He collapsed on his bed, realising how exhausted he was. Getting shot by an arrow was tiring stuff.

His eyelids drooped and seconds later he was out like a light.

* * *

_Warm lips brushed against his ear. A hand pressed against the small of his back, pushing him into the wall and holding him there. Another hand crept around to his front and began to fiddle with the buckle of his belt. Daryl tried to wriggle free but was pushed back in place. The man behind his growled throatily. _

_"We've got a live one." He roared to his cronies in the other room. His Dad was having a poker game with his friends. All of them sleazy, middle-aged men who got off by abusing kids, physically and sexually. More often or not, one of Cooper's 'friends' would ask for Daryl and then take him into the other room. He wasn't proud of what they did to his son but he'd be a hypocrite if he objected. _

_Or that's what he told himself to appease his conscience. _

_Daryl struggled against the man, trying to get out. He knew what was coming. The man, a particularly sleazy man named Larry, wore a leopard print shirt, the top few buttons undone so his chest hair curled out. His face was red and he had a large squashy nose. A few hairs had been combed over on his head and he reeked of garlic and vomit. _

_He pushed Daryl down again before unbuckling his own belt and dropping his pants around his ankles. He ripped Daryl's belt away and pulled his pants and underwear down, revealing the young boy's buttocks. Larry gave a wheezy laugh before rubbing his hands up Daryl's bare thighs and bum._

_ Daryl whined pitifully, "Don't do this. Please, stop. Leave me alone." He begged. Larry gripped his hair and pulled his head back before whispering in his ear, "Kiddo I can't stop. See if I did, what would I get? Nothin'! So shut yer trap." He slammed Daryl's head against the wall, leaving him dazed. He bent the dazed boy over and thrusted hard._

_Daryl screamed out as he was penetrated. Larry pulled back before thrusting into him again. The same pattern happened for a 10 minutes before Larry finally got bored. He pulled out of Daryl completely and orgasmed violently over Daryl's butt cheeks. Larry chuckled darkly to himself, pulling his pants up. He grabbed Daryl by his hair and dragged him into the middle of the room. He kicked him in the stomach before stamping on his hand. _

_Daryl screamed in pain as Larry beat him up, using his feet and fists. Larry's boot smashed into the side of his head and his fist connected with Daryl's nose. His nose exploded with blood as the bone cracked. Larry pressed his boot to Daryl's throat and applied pressure. He finally let up and sneered at the feeble sight. _

_Daryl was lying in a pool of blood and semen, bleeding from his nose and a cut to his head. Larry examined his knuckles before stamping on the boy's face one last time. He then left to join the poker game, laughing. _

_Daryl could hear the others laughing as Larry told them his story. Laughing at him. His vision was blurred and he couldn't move his right hand but Daryl was determined to cover up before someone came to find. He gripped his underwear and pants with his left hand and slowly eased them up his bruised legs, groaning and moaning in pain. He lay were he was after that, unable to move, crying. Everytime he tried to move, his body never responded. _

_A shadow loomed over him and Daryl could make out the figure of his Dad. Cooper sneered at him before grabbing the back of his shirt and dragging him into the cellar. He dumped the boy in the refrigerator and slammed the lid shut, leaving Daryl in pure darkness._

* * *

Daryl bolted upright, gasping for air. He looked around the cell, panting heavily. He was covered in a cold sweat. There was a stickiness to his face. He dragged his wrist over his eyes and knew he'd been sleep crying. He wiped his face with his hand and it came away red. Blood was splattered over his pillow and sheet. He inhaled deeply which was harder than usual. Then it clicked.

He'd had a nose bleed.

He sighed in relief and scrambled out his bed. He pulled his boots on with his good arm and paused when he spotted clothes that didn't belong to him on the stool in the corner of his room. He wiped his bloodied hand on his shirt before picking them up. It was a white shirt and a faded pair of grey jeans. Daryl shrugged and dropped them back on the stool. There would be a reason they were in his room.

Daryl found his red cloth and used it to wipe the blood from his face. He tucked it in his back pocket and left the cell. He found the orginal prison group along with Tyreese, Sasha and Karen sitting around a couple of tables that had been shoved together. Daryl tutted and pulled the sling off his arm. He shoved it in his back pocket and rolled his shoulder, working the stiffness from his joint. He grunted when he was satisfied that his arm was going to be okay and joined the others.

He sat in the free seat next to Rick and Herschel, keeping as much distance from Tyreese and Carol as he could. Herschel tutted in disapproval when he saw Daryl had removed the sling.

"You're impossible." He moaned lightly, slapping Daryl lightly on the back. Daryl raised an eyebrow at him but made no comment. His eyes met Carol and he glimpsed the small smile she shot him. Daryl just looked away from her, turning his attention to Rick.

"We need to find out where the Governor is." Rick stated, "Dexter seems to belong to another group of the Governors. So we should find some answers there."

"What do we do with him after? I don't want this becomin' another Randall situation." Maggie asked, frowning.

"We kill him."

* * *

**A/N: And that's another little insight into Daryl's past. **

**P.S. I'm not a doctor, I've never been shot by an arrow or dislocated my shoulder so if I've done anything wrong, my bad. I just thought that would be interesting. **

**Thank you so so so much for the reviews. I know a lot of people say this but, the more reviews I get the quicker I'll write. Reading your reviews really motivates me into writing more. **

**Drop a review below!**


	9. Chapter 9

"Or we could make a statement," Daryl suggested, cocking his head to the side, a plan forming in his mind. They could make a statement, show the Governor what they were capable of.

"What do you mean by 'make a statement'?" Glenn asked, his arm wrapped around Maggie's waist.

"We could hang on the fence, let the walkers get him. That way if the Governor sends anymore people to scout, they'll see Dexter and know we're not to be messed with. I'm just spitballin' here." Daryl shrugged before standing up and stretching.

"Where you goin'?" Tyreese asked. Daryl glared at him, his eyes narrowing. Daryl shook his head and rolled his shoulders awkwardly. He could feel Carol's eyes on him, watching him and analysing his every movement.

"I...I have..." Daryl struggled, he knew where he was going, he knew what he going to do but he couldn't say it outright. He scowled, "I have a meetin' to get to. So if you'll excuse me." That sounded snarky enough to deter further questions. He cracked his knuckles as he strode purposely towards the door.

"Daryl don't." It was Carol. Daryl tensed at her voice but them he remembered what she had done to him, how she had hurt him, even if it was unintended. Anger surged through him and he was glad that he was finally going to get a release.

"Someone's gotta do something." He snarled as he walked out the door. He heard the cell door slam behind him and then open again. He sighed but kept walking.

"We need to talk!" It was Tyreese. Daryl's heart ached, he knew what Tyreese was going to say. That he and Carol were an item, that he loved her. That Daryl just needed to face it and get over it. That Carol loved Tyreese. And that was something Daryl just wasn't ready hear.

"Me and Carol..." Tyreese paused but then sounded annoyed as Daryl kept walking towards the guard tower, "Hey I'm talkin' to you."

Daryl allowed himself a ghost of a grin but then something grabbed his crossbow. Daryl whirled quickly, his fist connecting with Tyreese's face before he even knew what was happening. Tyreese fell like a tree, clutching his face. Blood streamed out his nose and his eye was already beginning to swell.

"Well I'm done talkin' to you." Daryl snarled and continued into the guard tower, leaving Tyreese on the concrete.

* * *

"Where is the Governor?" Daryl roared, his fist smashing into Dexter's face for the fourth time. Dexter's head lolled against the wall and he smirked. He spat blood on the floor, "You think I'd give up that easily?"

Daryl's boot connected with his stomach. Dexter gagged and rolled to the side, curling himself up. His feet and hands were still bound, making it hard. Daryl dragged him into an upright position before crouching down in front of him and pulling his hunting knife from his belt. He examined the blade. He gripped Dexter by his ear and pulled him close.

"I ain't a very patient man. Where...Is...The...Governor?" He snarled. Dexter sneered and spat in Daryl's face. Daryl wiped his face quickly before giving way to blind rage. His fists pounded Dexter, his feet crashed into him. He truly was an animal. Daryl sighed and regained control after a couple of minutes. Dexter groaned in pain. Daryl tugged Dexter forward by his ear, glaring at him. They stayed that way for a moment. Dexter didn't answer so Daryl yanked the tip of Dexter's ear free and dragged his knife across it before starting at the edge and very slowly sawing into the flesh.

Dexter shrieked and tried to break free. Daryl finished with the tip of his ear and dropped it into Dexter's lap.

"You ready to talk yet?"

"I swear I don't know! We just have this camp a couple of days walk from here. In the woods." Dexter cried, staring at the piece of ear in his lap.

"What were you gonna do to Beth?" Daryl growled. He dragged the knife lightly across Dexter's cheek, smearing blood. Dexter jerked his head away and grinned wickedly, showing his bloody teeth.

"What do you think? We was gonna work her over good. Twenty odd men, starved of sex. We'd have taken turns. Blondie wouldn't have been able to walk when I'd finished with her.I'd fucked her up the ass then beat her black and blue." Dexter sneered wickedly. Daryl's fist connected with Dexter's face again. He plunged his knife deep into Dexter's thigh, just missing his groin. Dexter screamed out, staring at his leg. Daryl wrentched his knife free, hot blood spurting over his hands and making the handle slippery. Dexter tried to staunch the wound but his hands were tied behind his back.

"Look's like you're a little tied up." Daryl sneered, standing up. He turned to leave before darting back and stamping down on Dexter's bleeding leg. Dexter roared in pain, tears leaking from his eyes.

"How armed is your little 'camp'?" Daryl pressed his foot harder into Dexter's leg.

"We ain't got much. Just a couple of guns each. We're short on ammo!"

"I should cut your balls off. But I won't. I'll need something to cut if I come back. If I find out you're lyin'." Daryl snarled and left the room. He slammed the door shut after him, leaving Dexter bleeding and sobbing, desperately trying to break free of his ties.

Daryl passed Michonne on the stairs. Her eyes widened when she saw the bloody knife and the blood pumping out of the torn flesh of Daryl's knuckles. His clothes were stained with red. Something had gone down in the guard tower, that much was obvious.

She nodded at him as they passed but either Daryl didn't see or ignored her. He looked pretty caught up in his thoughts. Michonne continued up to the balcony, peeking into the room that held Dexter.

* * *

Daryl sat on a bench in the courtyard and studied his bloody fists. The skin on his knuckles was shredded and blood oozed. His shoulder was throbbing dully but it was a pain easily ignored. He rolled it a few times, getting some movement back. Footsteps clacked on the concrete behind him and then someone was holding out a towel to him.

Carol.

He sighed but took the towel with a grunt of apprieciation. Carol studied him for a moment, his shaggy hair that was in a state of disarray, his bloody fists and muscular arms. His weather beaten skin, his sharp blue eyes. Finally she cleared her throat and settled on the bench next to him.

Daryl didn't even look at her, just dabbed at his knuckles with the towel.

"We need to stop this." Carol sighed, "This skirting around each other. You need to stop beating people up, use your words, not your fists. Tyreese's eye is swelled shut and his nose is broken."

"There you go...bringin' up your boyfriend." Daryl spat and clenched his fists, fresh blood oozing from the cracks in his skin. His jaw tightened.

"He's not my boyfriend! He's just my friend, and why do you even care? It's not like you have before. I get it, you're angry about Merle—" Carol snapped but Daryl cut her off.

"Don't you dare make this about Merle. Don't you fuckin' dare." He snarled.

"—but you can't just take it out on the world. Like that man up in the tower. I bet you were unnecessarily brutal. That's why you're covered in blood!" Carol continued. Daryl got to his feet, dropping the bloody towel.

"I grew up with men like him. I know what they're capable off. You shoulda heard what he was sayin' bout Beth. Hear the things that would happen to her." Daryl yelled, "You don't know what he would do if he was given the chance!" He strode towards the gates, eager to disappear into the woods and hunt.

"Stop walkin' away from me! You're a coward! If you can't fight a battle, you run!" Carol yelled, her voice icy. Daryl froze and shuddered. He had a feeling she wasn't talking about killing walkers.

"You run from the things that matter! You want your friendship back? Take it. But no one's ever gonna love you the way I do!" Carol roared, her own rage taking over her, "No one's ever gonna love a stupid redneck! Not like I do! When are you gonna stop runnin' from a problem?" She stopped, breathing heavily. Why couldn't he see that she wanted him? What was he so afraid of?

Daryl gasped, like someone had stabbed him. That's how it felt. But it was true, no one was ever going to love him. He was just a dumb redneck good for one thing. Killing walkers. He turned to her and stormed towards her. Carol shrunk back as Daryl towered over her. When he showed no signs of relenting, she swung at him. Daryl caught her wrist and towered over her.

"What do you want from me?" He growled, still gripping her wrist tightly. Carol tried to wriggle free but Daryl stared her down. Her eyes met his and she froze at what she saw.

His blue eyes were feral, full of cold hate and unspoken rage. Carol's own rage seemed like a match flame compared to Daryl's wildfire. Underneath the anger and hate, darkness was hidden. It was usually well contained but now it was sparking to the fore. In that moment Carol knew he'd seen things at a young age. Horrendous things, things no one should ever have to see.

It was like Carol was reliving all Daryl's memories. Her knees buckled but Daryl held her up. She saw young women getting sleazy men forced upon them. A whip tearing into the skin of someone's back, a hand smashing into someone's face. Men drinking alcohol like it was water and smoking cigars while sitting around a felt table. Gruesome murders, madness taking over someone, driving them to lunacy. People throwing themselves off buildings and splatting into the ground. Blood rivers ran down the kerb, pooling in the cracks. A house gone up in flames, crumbling bit by bit.

Daryl blinked, severing the connection. He glanced down at his hand still gripping Carol's wrist. He dropped it suddenly and stepped back like Carol was white hot.

"You're not the first person to not love me. And you're sure as shit not gonna be the last." He whispered softly. He fixed her with a hard stare before turning on his heel and striding into the yard, his crossbow slung over his shoulder.

Carol clamped her hand over her mouth and sunk to the ground, tears pumping from her eyes. She would never forget the look on Daryl's face. The anger, the hatred, the darkness. Then the pain. The pain that had contorted his face. She had caused that. She had hurt him. She had yelled at him, yelled that no one would love him. The even sadder thing was that Daryl had just accepted it.

Carol looked at her wrist, the one Daryl had held so tightly. Purple bruises were already beginning to form. They reminded her of the ones Ed had given her when he'd grip her wrists. She shook her head quickly, shocked that she had thought of Ed and Daryl in the same train of thought. She grabbed the bloody towel Daryl had dropped and used it to wiped the tears from her face. She glanced through the gates and spotted the figure disappearing into the woods.

* * *

Twigs snapped underfoot, leaves rustled and birds fluttered from tree to tree. Daryl thought about shooting a few but didn't have the heart to load his crossbow. He was in no mood to hunt. Not after his chat with Carol. He already knew no one would love him and he'd accepted that, but she confused him by saying no one would love him _like she did._

Carol didn't love him. They were friends, that was all, right? She was with Tyreese. So why did she say that? Daryl shrugged internally and ripped the knife from his belt as twigs snapped behind him. He whirled quickly and sighed when he saw the lone walker ambling towards him.

He tucked the knife back into his belt before letting the walker come close, taking the time to examine it. It was a male, who looked like he used to live in the gym. It's hair was matted and tangled, sticking out in all places. It was missing an arm and it's eye dangled out of the socket by a fleshy strip. The walker reached for him. Daryl shoved it back and it tripped on a stick.

Daryl's foot smashed into the skull, releasing some of his anger but not much. He kept stomping until his boot was splattered in brain matter and black blood, submerged in mush. He sighed and dragged his boot across the walker's clothes, wiping away the worst of the gunk.

He wandered aimlessly through the woods, not paying attention to where his feet took him. He came across the ocassional walker but they were easily dealt with. After a while, he stumbled into a familiar field. Daryl ground to a halt.

He was at the barn. The one Rick and the Governor had talked in, the one they had agreed to meet and hand Michonne over at. The Merle had been killed at. Daryl's eyes zoned in on Merle's rotting corpse. He hadn't moved it. He hadn't been back to the barn since he'd killed his brother. A few walker's had nibbled on Merle's remains but otherwise he was untouched. Daryl sighed and crouched down next to his brother's corpse. Merle remained motionless.

"Hey big brother." He smiled sadly before pushing himself to his feet. He was going to bury Merle, now that he was here. He figured Merle deserved that much. Daryl disappeared into one of the barns, looking for a stray shovel. He eventually found one, hidden amongst a cluster of tarps. He grabbed one and began to dig in the soft earth, hidden behind the silo.

Daryl's shoulder ached as he dug. He was probably making the wound worse but he didn't care. Once he was satisfied with the hole, Daryl gripped Merle by his legs and dragged him towards the hole. He gently lowered his brother's body into the hole before shovelling the dirt on top of him. Daryl didn't realise tears were rolling down his face until he finished burying Merle. He wiped his eyes quickly and pulled his knife out. He stabbed it into the side of the silo and carved.

**_Merle Dixon  
R.I.P Big Brother_**

Daryl tucked his knife away and began the walk back to the prison, hating himself for not burying Merle earlier. He dreaded seeing Carol again.

* * *

**A/N: I know some of you guys think the rape in the last chapter was unnecessary but later on it will be a key problem, along with some other little insecurities. **

**Some Caryl angst this chapter. **

**Comment, review, praise, constructive critism are all excepted. No hate though :)**

**Drop a review below! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

The sun had set long before Daryl arrived back at the prison. He hadn't come back straight away, he'd wandered aimlessly through the woods, often pausing to shoot a squirrel or a bird. When he finally arrived back at the prison, Sasha opened the gate for him.

"Mmm, look's like we're gettin' a good dinner tomorrow." She smiled openly, closing the gate behind him, "Rick wants to see you. He's been lookin' for you." Daryl grunted and nodded hollowly. He pushed into the cell block and dumped his gains on one of the empty tables. He rummaged around in the storage area and found an empty bucket and a tray. He grimaced and picked it up, heading towards the stairs, slinging his belt of squirrels over his shoulder. He sat on his step, the bucket on the lower step and got to work, skinning the squirrels and getting rid of the organs.

He worked quickly and with great amount of precision. His hands were soon covered in scraps of fur and blood. A young Woodbury girl came over to him and watched him for a few minutes before squeaking, "Did you kill the fluffy rat?"

Daryl looked up startled, somehow the little girl had snuck up on him, "Uh...I killed it so we can eat it."

"I don't want to eat it."

"Go hungry then." Daryl snapped. This kid was getting on his nerves. The girl looked shocked at the venom in his voice and rushed away to be comforted by someone. Daryl sighed, a pang of guilt shooting through him. He ground his teeth together and got back to work, swallowing the guilt. It wasn't like he even knew the kid and he didn't want to know her.

Once he had finished, the squirrel carcasses on the tray and the blood, fur and guts in the bucket, he stood up. He put the tray on the counter next to the stove and went outside with the bucket of guts. He hid the bucket behind the cars, he'd dispose of it properly later. He stood and turned to leave but Rick blocked his way. He jumped.

"I'm seriously off my game today," Daryl muttered bitterly to himself, "Two people." He spat and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Daryl, I need you to go on a run. Check further out, we're runnin' low on supplies. Maggie's goin' with you. It's so we can set up for the weddin' and Maggie needs a dress." Rick stated, hands on his hips.

"You want me to go dress shoppin'?" Daryl snorted, chuckling lightly. Rick couldn't actually be serious, could he? He studied Rick's expression and knew that he wasn't joking.

"Pack for a coupla days. Take the Jeep." Rick stated and yawned, wobbling on his feet. Daryl caught his arm and steadied him.

"You're serious?" Daryl raised his eyebrow and Rick nodded, "Fine. I'll go dress shoppin', might find somethin' that suits me." He chuckled.

"I'd think you'd look good in pink. Y'know, wash off all the blood and squeeze into a pink dress. You'd make a very pretty girl, Darlina." Rick cracked a grin and Daryl forced a weak laugh. Merle used to call him Darlina.

_"Oh Darlina not strong enough?" _

_"Did that hurt? Baby Girl Darlina got a booboo?" _

_"Grow a pair of balls Darlina."_

Daryl grinned greenly at the memories, even though Merle had been mocking and taunting him, those were the days. He cleared his throat, "You think? I'm not sure pink's my colour."

"Aw sure man, if you wore a pink dress and make-up. Even I might be tempted." Rick joked. It had been a long time since Rick had laughed, or even smiled, so Daryl was glad he could be there for it.

"You'd think we'd be good together?" Daryl raised an eyebrow, an amused grin tugging at his lips. Rick batted his eyelashes and stepped closer to Daryl. He laid his head on the hunter's shoulder. Daryl tensed up slightly, unsure of the touch.

"We'd be the best couple in the world." Rick fawned, batting his eyelashes and twirling his finger in his hair. Daryl smirked and pushed him away. Rick pointed at his mouth, rolling his finger, "You wanna try makin' out? Just to see how it feels?" He started sniggering, laughing wickedly. Daryl grinned and pushed Rick against the wall, leaning in close.

He stopped when he was inches away from Rick's face, "You ain't my type." He recoiled and started walking towards the tower, leaving Rick leaning against the wall, laughing.

"I'll take watch tonight, I've been sleepin' a lot lately. You could do with sleep." Daryl yelled over his shoulder. He could still hear Rick's guffaws.

"Next time you take a shower; don't drop the soap!" Rick called after him, still laughing to himself. Daryl waved him, grinning and jogged up into the guard tower. He settled in the seat, then jumped up, sure something was wrong. He looked around anxiously. His eyes lingered on the other guard tower and then it hit him. No one was on watch there, so no one was watching Dexter. Daryl sighed to himself but left his post after a quick scan of the yard.

He jogged over to the other guard tower and took the stairs two at a time. He paused outside the door and loaded his crossbow. He could hear grunting behind the door. Daryl's foot smashed into the door, kicking it open. He burst inside. Sasha was lying on the floor, unconscious and Dexter had struggled to his feet, holding Sasha's rifle. He was leaning heavily on the control panels but had somehow managed to free his hands.

"You shoot and we both go down." Dexter warned, fumbling with the rifle. His hands were shaking and he was sweating heavily. Daryl sighed to himself, the last thing he needed was a fight with a kid.

Daryl growled, "You think you can kill me? I'd like to see you try." He stepped towards Dexter. Dexter paled and pointed the rifle at Daryl's chest.

"Don't come any closer. I mean it."

"Watch me." Daryl snarled, taking a deliberate step closer. Dexter raised the rifle and took aim. Daryl lunged forward as Dexter pulled the trigger. His body tensed, waiting for searing pain, a bullet piercing his body but nothing happened. His arms wrapped around Dexter's waist, tackling him backwards. They crashed over the console and out the window, landing on the balcony in a shower of glass shards.

Daryl rolled away from Dexter and groaned. He got to his feet woozily and yanked Dexter to his feet. His hands wrapped around Dexter's throat and he squeezed. Dexter's hands clawed at his throat, weakly trying to break Daryl's hold. Daryl released him, shoving him to the floor in disgust. His leg swung back and smashed into Dexter's face. Teeth and blood flew through the air. Daryl ground his teeth together and stamped down hard on the boy's skull. Dexter's eyes fluttered and a gasp left his lips before he went stil, breathing raggedly.

Daryl went into the guard tower and found the belts that had once tied Dexter up. He grabbed them and went back out to the balcony. He bound Dexter's wrists together and tied one belt around the railing. He looped the other end around Dexter's throat.

Daryl slapped the boy's cheek, bringing him into consciousness. Dexter spluttered and wriggled but Daryl wasn't worried. Daryl watched as the boy burst into tears, realising his pathetic attempts at escape were futile.

Daryl punched Dexter in the stomach before wrapping his arms around Dexter's legs and hoisting him over the railing. The belt went taunt and strained as it dangled Dexter's full weight. There was a crunching sound and a choking noise before a tranquility washed over Daryl. The deed was finally done.

He peered over the edge of the railing, making sure Dexter was dead before going over to Sasha and giving her a once over. She had no obvious head wounds but was unresponsive. Daryl rolled her eyelids back and gently slapped her cheeks but nothing could wake her. Daryl sighed and gripped Sasha under her arms. He hoisted her onto his shoulder and was surprised by how light she was. He carried her down from the guard tower, strode across the yard and into the cell block.

Tyreese's eyes widened when he saw his sister but Daryl ignored him and put her in a cell, sending Carl to go get Hershel. Daryl rolled his neck and mumbled to no one in particular, "I better get back on watch."

His eyes flickered to Carol briefly who was cradling Judith. Judith's breath hitched and she coughed before starting to cry. Carol rocked her back and forth, murmuring comforts while Hershel tended to Sasha. Tyreese was glancing from Daryl to Carol to Sasha and back again. Daryl stepped up to Carol and scooped Judith out of her arms. Her cries were beginning to give him a headache.

He bounced the baby up and down and rubbed her back, cooing softly, not meeting Carol's gaze. He could feel her eyes on him, a smile on her lips. Judith's cries died to gurgles before stopping altogether. Daryl handed her back to Carol quickly, his rough hands brushing against hers. His eyes met Carol's before darting away again. He stalked briskly across the room and left the cell block.

Carol hastily handed Judith over to Beth and followed Daryl. They needed to talk. She needed to tell him that she hadn't meant what she'd said earlier. She needed to apologise. Tyreese had already left the cell block, chasing after Daryl, rage rippling through him.

Daryl was almost at the guard tower when a strong hand gripped his arm and tugged him round. A fist connected with his face. Blood and spit sprayed the air as Daryl sunk to the ground. Whoever had hit him was a powerful motherfucker. He looked around blearily, his vision out of focus. He saw Tyreese and blinked, his sight clearing.

"What did you do to my sister?" Tyreese yelled. Daryl shook his head and forced himself to his feet, staggering slightly.

"What the fuck you talkin' bout?" Daryl spat a mouthful of blood on the concrete.

"What did you do to my sister?" Tyreese roared again, raising a fist. Daryl scoffed and dragged his wrist across his face, wiping away the blood.

"You think I hurt your sister?" Daryl scoffed, "I don't hit women." Tyreese grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him against the wall. He was stronger than he looked. Daryl kicked out, his boot hitting Tyreese's shin. Tyreese dropped him and Daryl shoved him away.

"Stop! Stop it! The pair of you are acting like kids!" Carol's voice rang out. She barged in between the posturing men, resting a hand on each of their chests. Daryl shrugged out of her touch. He wasn't ready to talk to her, or even see her. He blinked and wiped his mouth.

"He did somethin' to Sasha, I'm sure of it." Tyreese yelled and lunged at Daryl again, stepping around Carol. Tyreese tried to tackle Daryl. Sighing to himself, Daryl brought his knee up and it connected with Tyreese's head, stunning him. Tyreese sprawled to the ground.

"I told you; I don't hit women." Daryl spat, "Even if their brother is an annoyin' fuck. I don't turn on our own."

"Daryl wouldn't hit Sasha." Carol murmured softly. Daryl folded his arms over his chest, jaw clenched. Carol gave him a small smile but he turned away and started to walk towards the guard tower.

"Daryl, you have glass in your shoulder." Carol called after him. Daryl paused, reached blindly and felt around his shoulder. His fingers felt the glass shard protruding from his skin and yanked it free, tossing it to the ground.

"Not anymore."

"Why did you have glass in your shoulder?" Carol asked, "Let me get somethin' for the cut."

Daryl sighed but pointed at the dark shape dangling from the railing of the other guard tower, "Go see for yourselves. I'm done with this shit." He disappeared into the guard tower, leaving Carol and Tyreese to confirm what they already knew.

Carol's hand covered her mouth as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Beside her, Tyreese was muttering softly, "Fuck. I never actually thought Daryl was capable...of murder? Or execution?"

"Different words, same meaning." Carol murmured back, her eyes meeting Tyreese's for a brief moment. Carol had always known Daryl would do the best for the group, she just never thought he'd single handedly murder a kid. A warm hand slithered into her own and she felt a light pressure. She forced her eyes off the dark, hanging silhouette and looked at her hand, intertwined with Tyreese's. She squeezed back gently before pulling her hand free.

"I better go talk to him."

"Yeah. I'll...y'know. Inform the group." Tyreese strode briskly across the courtyard. Carol took her time going up the guard tower, thinking through what she was going to say.

_"You killed him."_

_"Are you happy? You took your anger out on a kid, yet again." _

_"Why? Daryl, why?"_

_"If you wanted to hit someone, you shoulda hit me, not some kid." _

Instead it was Daryl that broke the silence with a soft, "He'll turn soon."

He was hunched in a chair, his head in his hands, gripping fistfuls of his hair. He didn't even look up to know Carol was there. His crossbow was sitting on the control panel. Carol licked her lips and swallowed before asking, "How did we get here?"

"I don't know about you but I walked." Daryl sat up, shoulder's tensed and jaw clenched. The muscle in his cheek was ticking away and his eyes had the feral quality of an animal.

"No. How did we get here? You...killing a kid and me...hurting you." Carol swallowed, her eyes bearing down on Daryl. His whole form tensed up at her words and his eyes locked with hers before he blinked, the animal quality dissolving.

"I did what was best for the group. He'd woulda hurt more people if he got the chance." Daryl shook his head and scratched the back of his neck, "I couldn't take the risk."

"I know you did. You're always doin' what's best for the group. But you don't need to do everythin'. You kill walkers', you take extra watch shifts, you hunt and you go on runs. You should let someone else take a turn on watch, or a turn goin' on runs."Carol whispered softly.

"I think there's a sayin' that goes somethin' like this: If a job's worth doin', it's worth doin' right." Daryl muttered, "I'll only rest when I know the job is done properly. And I don't trust the Woodbury group. They've never lived like we have, they haven't had to check fences or go on runs so they miss things. And missin' things get you killed."

"There's somethin' else Daryl. I can see it." Carol whispered, stepping forward. She could see that the stuff about the Woodburians was a lie. She could see the truth hiding in his eyes.

Daryl swallowed as Carol slowly proceeded to come closer to him. Her hand reached out and laid on his cheek. Daryl pulled back slightly, just out of her reach. The truth was hanging on his tongue, waiting to be spoken. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, kiss her and tell her she was everything he wanted. That she made him feel things that he'd never felt before.

"I know you work yourself like a slave because it takes your mind off him." Carol whispered, her fingers caressing Daryl's cheek, "I know it takes your mind off Merle."

Daryl stood up so fast his chair shoot backwards into the wall. He stepped out of Carol's reach, his fingers wrapping around his crossbow. He faked a yawn and a stretch, "I better hit the sack. Got a long coupla days comin'."

"Doin' what?" Carol had stepped back, taken by surprise from Daryl's sudden movement.

Daryl stepped towards the door, opened it and muttered, "Dress shoppin'." Before disappearing into the gloom of the staircase.

* * *

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the late update, but my computer broke and I lost all my work so I had to re-write everything and set up a new computer. My wifi dropped out due to storms and I've had poor signal since. It got fixed today though :)**

**I've also had a bad case of writer's block. But I should get back to updating every few days or at least once a few. **

**Review, comment, praise or constructive critique is all excepted as usual. No hate. **

**A big thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review previous chapters, even if it was just one chapter or numerous ones, I'm grateful for you guys taking the time to read this fic.**

**Drop a review below! :)**


	11. Chapter 11

Daryl slammed the trunk shut and crossed his arms, huffing impatiently as he glanced Maggie still saying her goodbyes. She'd gone around hugging the group, kissing Glenn and cradling Judith while Daryl had loaded the supplies into the car. He'd packed enough food for a couple of days and a few extra weapons.

He leant back against the side of the car, scowling at Maggie and Glenn as they started another kiss. Glenn seemed even more reluctant to let Maggie go than usual, his eyes often darting to her abdomen. Glenn finally pulled away, much to Maggie's dismay, and cradled her face in his hands. He whispered something and gave her a light kiss. Maggie gave him a final hug before hugging Hershel and Beth.

Daryl found himself drawn to the figure still hanging from the guard tower, growling hungrily and reaching for the fresh meat below. Rick was fiddling with the belts, trying to pull the walker up into the guard tower. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He regretted killing Dexter, the boy could have been so much more than a rapist thug. But the world had ruined him and Daryl had killed what little humanity Dexter had left. Now someone just needed to put the boy down.

Once and for all.

Daryl sighed with relief when Maggie finally made her way over to the car, "Finally." Maggie just smiled weakly before climbing in the passenger seat. Daryl frowned slightly but didn't question her lack of enthusiasm.

"Hey, Daryl? If somethin' happens to her..." Glenn called, trailing off, his face creased with worry. Hershel laid a soothing hand on his shoulder.

"You'll kill me," Daryl finished for Glenn, "Nothin' is gonna happen. Maggie's a big girl." He gave Glenn a small nod before climbing in the car and starting the engine. There was a quick rap on the window. Daryl was surprised when he saw Carol standing there, holding a small bag of things. He rolled his window down and cocked his head at Carol, waiting for her to speak.

"I made you guys some sandwiches for the road, uh...there's a tinned tomato and lettuce and a shredded squirrel one. It's not much but...it'll help." Carol murmured, dropping the bag onto Daryl's lap. He nodded at her, avoiding her eyes. Maggie leant over and clutched Carol's hand through the window.

"Thank you. That was very kind of you." Maggie smiled.

"It was no bother. It's just a little extra...a small thank you for what you're doing for the group." Carol smiled as Maggie leant back into her seat, taking the bag of sandwiches with her. Daryl was gripping the steering wheel so tightly he was afraid he might rip it from the console. His knuckles were white. Carol leant in through the window and very tentatively pressed her lips to Daryl's cheek.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened and the wheel juddered. Daryl swallowed. He could feel the heat spreading to his cheeks, he could feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He cleared his throat and revved the engine, "We...should gone now."

"Stay safe." Carol whispered in his ear before retracting from the window and waving after them as the car pulled away, going much faster than necessary, only slowing so Michonne could open the gates before speeding away.

* * *

Carol watched as the car sped away, leaving nothing but clouds of dust. She smiled to herself and dragged her hand across her sweaty brow. She had seen the way Daryl had blushed, the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened. She knew she was stirring up things in him. Things she'd never seen before. She could see it in his eyes.

Whatever it was made Daryl uncomfortable so he lashed out at her, tried to push her away. But it didn't work. It _wouldn't _work on her. She knew Daryl could be a mean, volatile bastard but he always did what he thought was best for the group. Even amongst the grief he was experiencing, he never let the group down. Carol sighed and looked up to the guard tower.

Rick had managed to wrestle Dexter over the edge of the railing and dragged him into the guard tower. Carol stared at the belts that still dangled from the railing, swaying back and forth with the slight breeze. Rick emerged from the guard tower, dragging Dexter's corpse, his knife imbedded in the walker's eye socket. Carol could see Rick struggling and hurried over. She grabbed the walker's legs and lifted them up.

Together she and Rick carried the corpse over to the fire pit and placed it down on the charred wood. Carol removed Rick's knife as Rick rummaged in his pockets and found a box of matches. He quickly slid one out and scraped it along the side of the box, igniting the match. He sighed and dropped the match on the rags the walker wore.

Dexter looked like he was sleeping, apart from gaping hole where his right eye should have been. Carol watched solemnly as the flames engulfed the corpse and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. Rick was staring at the flames, his eyes wide and unfocused. His mind was obviously elsewhere.

The body they were burning was a kid, a few years older than Carl. Sure he had done bad things, but they all had. This world made sure of it. Rick swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat, feeling the sting of tears. His vision swam and he blinked back the tears. He could just as easily be burning Carl, the boy in the flames could be his own son. Carl could die just as easily as Dexter had.

A warm hand slithered into his and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Rick licked his lips and looked up, meeting Carol's grey blue eyes. He blinked and wiped his eyes with his free hand before giving Carol a small smile.

"I'm just bein' silly." Rick muttered, looking embarrassed.

"Why were you cryin'? Everyone has a reason," Carol whispered, cocking her head to the side and giving Rick's hand another squeeze.

"I was just thinkin'...how easily it could be one of us we're burnin'. How it could be Carl. This kid was just a few years older than him. Just followin' orders. And now he's dead." Rick cleared his throat, "Do you know what made Daryl snap?"

Carol shook her head and glanced glumly at the flames, "No. I just know Dexter said he'd do horrible things to Beth if they had caught her. It seemed to tick Daryl off but it was the other day. I can't think of anythin' that happened recently apart from is weird because I didn't think Daryl cared about what happened to her." She felt a strange pang of jealousy shoot through her. A voice was whispering away in the back of her head, muttering conspiracies and spinning a story about Daryl might like someone else.

Rick nodded, "Daryl told me that the kid was a vile piece of work. Like Randall. Moved with a group o'them too. Said the Governor had arrived and kinda taken charge. Apparently they live in a camp in the woods. I know Daryl is capable of a lotta things...I just never thought he'd kill a boy."

"Daryl did what he thought was right. No one can blame him for murder. He was protecting the group, like he always is." Carol stated, trying to keep her anger at bay. Daryl was protecting the group and Rick, out of all people, was annoyed at him for it? Well Carol wasn't going to have it. She was going to defend Daryl, even if he had been rude and cruel to her.

"I know, I'm just...curious as to what was goin' on in his head. And what set him off." Rick murmured calmly, looking slightly confused. Carol frowned and then sighed. She had imagined Rick's attack on Daryl. Rick was simply saying what was going through his mind, he hadn't been slandering Daryl.

"I guess we'll never know." Carol whispered, embarrassed, "Let's go inside, I'll make you some oatmeal."

* * *

Daryl could feel Maggie's penetrating gaze on him, her eyes scrutinizing him. He had ignored it for the first few hours but now it was starting to bug him. They hadn't spoken much, only muttering a few stray comments, content to ride in comfortable silence.

But now Daryl was beginning to feel uncomfortable under Maggie's watchful eye. He sighed and rubbed his cheek for the hundredth time, right over the spot Carol had kissed him. The spot burned, like a blush that was going on for hours. Maggie's eyes examined the movement. He scratched his chin and cleared his throat.

"What?" He demanded, annoyed at her.

Maggie looked taken aback by his single utterance. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassement at having been caught out and her eyes suddenly were staring out the window, looking at the blurred trees. She had a hundred things she wanted to say to Daryl but only managed one word.

"Huh?" She coughed and looked at Daryl again, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Daryl scowled at her, "You were starin' at me. It's creepy."

Maggie coughed again and swallowed the lump in her throat, "I was just wonderin'...what's goin' on with you and Carol. One minute you're best of friends, the next she's cryin' in her cell and you're beatin' the shit into some kid."

"We're just friends." Daryl kept his eyes on the road ahead of him, paying much more attention to the road than necessary.

"No you're not. You're more than friends, that much is obvious. Everyone's seen the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. Like a blind man seein' the sun for the first time, y'know? You both kinda just...light up. Well you used to. Lately you've been avoidin' each other like the plague."

"Someone's observant." Daryl commented dryly, remembering the time in the old folk's home before they'd met the Greenes. All the oldies had been killed and everyone had just assumed they had been killed by walkers', even though it was only Andrea that said it a loud. He had called her out, pointed out that all the bodies had a single, neat bullet hole in their foreheads'. Told Andrea to look up the word 'Observant' in the dictionary.

She had been taken back by this and that was the first time the group had glimpsed that he was more than just a dumb redneck. Daryl swallowed, so many had died since then.

_Sophia, Andrea, Dale, T-Dog, Lori and Shane._

The next few minutes passed in silence before Maggie finally shattered it, "She loves you, you know?"

"She shouldn't. I'm no good." Daryl kept his eyes glued to the road. What if Maggie was right? What if Carol did love _him? _Maybe he was wrong about her and Tyreese? Maybe they were just friends?

He sighed and swerved to avoid a lone walker. He righted the car and continued along the road.

"Why did you kill Dexter?"

"You're full of questions, ain't cha?"

"You haven't answered them." Maggie retorted before repeating, "Why did you kill him?"

"I'd rather regret the things I've done than regret the things I ain't done. He'd a killed anyone of us given the chance...I just didn't give him the chance." Daryl opened his window and spat before coming to a halt.

* * *

They were in an abandoned town, far away from the prison. He rolled up his window and looked at Maggie, his eyebrow cocked, "You ready?"

She nodded and opened her door. Daryl reached into the back seat, grabbed his crossbow and joined Maggie at the trunk. She had equipped herself with a machete and a handgun. She put spare clips in her pocket while Daryl hefted his bag onto his shoulder and made sure he had plenty of crossbow bolts. Maggie shrugged her bag on and closed the trunk.

The pair cautiously pushed into town, eyes darting around, looking for shops or places that might hold supplies. Wrappers flew by their feet, blown by the wind. Maggie spotted a pharmacy and headed towards it. Daryl followed suit, his crossbow primed and ready to go. He kept it trained at the entrance of the pharmacy as Maggie pushed the door open.

A walker growled weakly from within the store. Daryl pushed ahead of Maggie and found the walker, curled up in the far corner, hidden by shelves. It was a scrawny walker, it's ribs jutted out. It clearly hadn't ate anything since it had been changed. It reached weakly for Daryl's foot but he kicked the hand away. The walker growled again and forced itself to its feet.

Daryl didn't kill it immediately because he was curious. The walker showed no bite marks. He spat in contempt as he realised whoever the walker had been, had hid out in the pharmacy, unaware that he carried the gene and had died.

It was a coward.

The walker was on it's feet now. Daryl felt his throat thicken when he realised it was a little boy, or at least used to be a little boy. The walker only reached Daryl's waist, it's legs bent outwards under the weight of the frail body. The walker staggered towards Daryl, slowly and weakly, crashing into the shelves.

Daryl's bolt pierced the milky eyeball of the walker and it fell to the ground. He retrieved his bolt and swept his arm along the shelves, pushing the contents into his bag. He raided the dispensary and killed another walker, this time an elderly pharmacist.

He found Maggie in the femine hygiene section, rummaging frantically through the numerous boxes, unaware of Daryl's presence. She found what she was looking for and turned to box over in her hands.

Daryl had assumed she was getting condoms but wasn't all that shocked when he saw the box. He cleared his throat and Maggie stiffened, dropping the box and picking up another.

"Whatchu gettin'?" He growled, loading a bolt into his crossbow.

Maggie held the box up to show him, "Uh...condoms. Y'know, safe sex and all."

Daryl scoffed, "Whatchu really gettin'?"

Maggie picked up her original box and tossed it towards him. He caught it single-handedly and examined, "Why do you need a pregnancy test?"

"I took one back at the prison and I just wanted to...y'know. Double check." Maggie's eyes began to water.

"Double check what?" Daryl pressed on. He knew where this was going but he wanted to here Maggie say it before he jumped to any conclusions.

"I...I think I might be pregant."

* * *

**A/N: Finally found the time to update. Phew! **

**I started back at school this week, so it's been kinda hectic trying to get my homework done, and write chapters. I know I said I'd update a couple of times a week but I'm not sure I'll be able to. I know it sounds like I'm just making excuses by I swear to you guys I'm not. **

**But I will definitely post a new chapter at least once a week. I promise you guys I will. **

**Review, comment, praise, suggestions, constructive critism is all accepted. No hate please. **

**Drop a review below! :)**


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